every bullet every shell every cartridge everything you fire my way, I collect. I dig them up from my flesh. I stitch my wounds. They are now my ammunition. one more spark and it explodes. You are surprised when it does. Suffragettes Feminists Women movements #MeToo I am proud to show my scars. Is this war? yes. But I can't stop fighting. You are the one still shooting.
Category: Occasional Poem
So much uncensored joy and love. Never ashamed, never embarrassed, never ending. I yearn to learn how to express it. I studied I observed I now understand I now comprehend I can see the outcome I can picture the emotion. Yet, when I try to recreate it all I have are puzzle pieces I'm not able to fit together. I don't even know where to start. Duh, I know you start at the corners and edges. But corners and edges is all I've got.
Napoleon was terrified of cats cats have OCD - licking and licking and licking the same spot spots and pots and kettles are all the same and all are black black versus white and right against wrong wrong turn on the road and you are lost lost treasure, a mere X on a map a map to someone’s imagination and dreams dreams and nightmares, who knows what is real? real feelings of heart - a strange place place that turns into a new world world that turns and we don’t even notice it spins spins and turns (again!) - i’ve been here... here and there and back again again and never, love hurts and tastes so good good deed will get punished and innocent will suffer for sinners. sinners and saints both walk the earth and the Earth spins faster than ever.
end of the road fortified walls doors shut be strong hands tied legs broken throat dry eyes blind be brave don’t weep laugh it off be alive.
welcome to my goldfish memory!
welcome to my goldfish memory!
welcome to my goldfish memory.
damn, i don’t feel too well.
art by ken wong – mistaken identity (www.kenart.net)
mercilessly beating the trees whirlpools of leaves in devilish dance tugging at my skirt debris hitting my face i'm hoping the gravitational pull of the earth will not let go of me
my fingers are like stones
…that makes no sense.
but it does make a sentence!
hahaha
i laughed out loud.
can you feel the electricity?
the tension? desire?
the lust, the love…
the missed opportunity
how deep can we fall
how dark can we become
for something so pure
glaring at me
laughing at me
i’m fighting with it
but its whiteness blinds me