1
Cast off stilettos,
A star-crossed stumble
Through an open flame
2
Sunlight streams
Through the cracks
Of my slackening fist
3
A mirror, in revulsion, cracks
To whom should I address
My questions now?
*
I wanted to do more and may later but I am struggling to find my words at the moment. I am inspired to write and stuck at the same time, just too much competition in my head!
For
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/28/heeding-haiku-with-ha-jack-kerouac/
I remember now
Your dreams,
The lotus smile
That fell in the wake
Of maturation.
Vinegar tastes precisely
As it smells, a corpse
Upon thine lips,
A perversion of preservation
I watched you weeping
In and out of consciousness
And there was no shelter
In your choice of venue
Only mirrors within
Which even one’s name
May be forgotten.
Almost has an intimacy
Few have the delicacy
To apprehend.
I may not have understood
The nature of your affliction
(Gravity being in the heart of the barer)
But I stand now an epitaph,
A reminder to all
That lovers come and go in pairs.
Your death is mourned,
Albeit reluctantly.
Why must I admit now
Your loss when once
I held you so hard
That our auras propagated
An entirely new state of being?
Why must I surrender
At the behest of rain
When I am already drowning?
*
For
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/27/photo-prompt-45-lily-pad-january-27-2015/
Random Note
Isadora has chicken box =(
A fixture, a force within which
I am blind and delicate.
I clutch the chords
Surrounding my heart
That you will not go there,
That your fingers will not ply
Music from the vacuum
Of my prevaricating jaw.
*
My body may be reckless
But what of my pride?
If I do not fight now
Then what meaning
Would conquest serve?
*
My tears come
When you are not with.
A drizzle that does not slate
The leeching of wounds
From this astral coquetry
And nothing goes quite the way
I have endeavored it.
This stupor would have me fall,
Broken at the first extraction.
Emboldened by a single kiss,
I can almost believe
That there is love in sex.
*
Submission for
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/26/monday-wordle-45-january-26-2015/
Waking does not dispel
Such conventional horrors.
This shame, these secrets
Upon which I asphyxiate.
The scent of loneliness
Like a harbor
That does not anchor
The ships employed.
*
You pass into me
Assume my mannerisms
Without question of origin.
Row after row of blasphemous suits
An increasingly ill-fitting wardrobe.
A denser and less communicative core.
I step in and out of your memory
As a cicada usurps its carapace
Alone, I understand
That the only monster is fear.
*
Your eyes are unlit charcoals
A necrotic dust
That devours in dissemination.
When you look at me
I see my soul,
A suppurating hollow
Into which dead things fall.
A kiss that draws blood
And splinters of bone
As if the donor
Were only a meal.
*
Wherever the armor holds
There is sure to be a demon.
Within each closed heart
A Zenos splits its maw
With each succulent morsel
With each salt starched scale
He grows thinner, hungrier
Soon there will be nothing
Left of me to tell
For
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/22/tale-weavers-prompt-create-a-monster/
We had to create a monster and then write about it and although my entry is dark I thought this was a fabulous and unique prompt. I gave my monster a somewhat alien look because I had a frightening dream about aliens recently. I was in bed, in my room and looking out the windows as I often do. The world was out of sync it kept shifting up and down. The sun had a strange diseased appearance and was only as bright as the moon. The sky looked like it was bleeding oil and there were strange alien-like shadows in the windows/on the balcony. Entities of some sort that weren’t quite in my dimension but who had a very strong malevolent aura about them. I whispered to Sam “Have you looked outside?” and he says to me “Yes but I’m more worried about what’s at the foot of the bed.” and then I woke up. I can only say you had to be there to understand how scary it was!
This about how when depressed we make our world smaller and smaller
The sun crumbles beneath
Freshly laundered clouds
As the detritus of a penalty
That cannot be rightly upheld.
There is a texture to my heart
Though I am neither old
Nor recently serviced.
It is as plausible as bark
A kind of porous exoskeleton
That both guards and permits.
*
I am valuable.
I do not have to earn the right
To be loved or to exist
Though my sensibilities
Are given often to coercion.
*
Perhaps I am magenta
Blinking, unreal
A gift without sender
A kind of philanthropic camera
That holds an image
Only so long as it serves
To communicate
Something larger than its own
Credulous stance.
For
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/19/wordle-44-january-19-2015/
I am not managing my time that well yet. I am managing school, necessities, and cleaning pretty well but I am still trying to find a way to get in exercise and blogging/writing. I did manage to squeeze in a little something for today!
Whenever and in whomever I die
There remains a trail as impermeable
As blood spewing from a wounded mouth
A film heedless in its application
But indelible against the clock’s
Carnivorous turnings.
*
There will be nothing left to fill me
Should your carnal absence
Deprive my sole occupation
All I have ever wanted
Can be surmised by the company kept
When there is no one around to witness.
In the dark I am always and never
God and monster, nightmare and aurora
A contradiction same as everyone else.
*
Unrelated to the post
I have been having a hard time writing lately, as a result of overwhelming stress I think I have switched off or tuned out emotionally for the moment. Did I mention our car broke down again from another problem? We have no choice now but to buy another.
lavinialeyna@Deviant Art
There are blue days
That do not lend to sorrow
But pass as ships
From harbor to harbor
Acquiescing to each arrest
With an unsinkable dignity.
*
In the finest hours
There lurks a heart
That will not be tamed
By lavish words of praise.
In the cruelest moments
There breathes a conscious
That will not be tailored
By external cowardice.
*
There are days of silence
That do not invoke mourning
And without which all music
Would seem as noise.
Such days though sober
Are not ordinarily grim.
Such days keep one’s memories
From confiscating, too long,
The present which comes
Only once no matter
How vivid its retelling.
For
Arno Raphael Minkkinen
From my timorous depths,
From the sedation of terror
Behind a veil of sleep.
Those hands
Which only an anvil
Could forge
Hold without endeavor.
There is a hum
Whenever the minuet
Wavers in orchestration.
The gritting of teeth
Often follows
The dawning of wool.
I can be whatever you want
So long as it is not me
That you seek.
The epiphany
Of a petulant God,
A savior who savors
The demise of all whom
Would follow.
Such a servant
Would not serve long
If known
And we all believe,
No matter how unjustly,
That we are horrors
In our own right.
*
For
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/06/wave-machine-photo-challenge-42-6-january-2015/
Unrelated Update
I have had my first real day of class. My new schedule is chaotic and involves a long commute and a significant amount of standing around in the cold. I actually do have to walk quite a lot in the snow in order to get to the bus stops “When I was your age I had to walk 50 miles uphill in the snow while juggling clementines”. I can’t say I enjoyed walking along a snow covered highway at 6:30 in the morning (or waking up at 5:30 or carrying two large bags strapped to my person while dressed as the Michelin man). I don’t like walking in the dark so much and whenever a car comes I have to throw myself in the ditch because there is no real shoulder or path. There is the grumbly part of me and the adventurous part that is excited by the prospect of taking on a challenge. I don’t actually walk 50 miles btw. I am not sure how far it is but I am probably walking 2 hours through snow and rough terrain everyday. Maybe that could count for exercise or something? Anyhow I want to keep writing to my blog as often as I can but it may take me longer to respond, I have to get some practice with this new hectic routine. Sam talked to Isadora’s school and it seems they are willing to take her at odd hours (I didn’t even think schools were open at these times, her school is awesome). I have 2 days where I have to leave at 6:30 am and 2 days where I get home at 6:30 pm. My brain also has to readjust for school, I am not so quick on the uptake. Having Dyslexia I have a tremendous struggle with word order. My sentences have the right words but in the wrong places and for the life of me I can’t make sense of it. You’d think I’d be able to string a sentence together being a writer haha
Your lips address my curves
With gratuitous familiarity,
Love has many manifestations
But this is not one of them.
Whatever excuse I apply
To our clarification falters.
We are and there is nothing
To be said for loneliness
That we cannot all attest.
You have an affinity
For parallels
For scarecrows writhing
In an unploughed field
For suffering as only fear
Can render it.
I prefer to be the victim
Unsteady, fragile, remiss.
Excess wears a jagged smile
A heart tart as an unripened currant
I desticate in the abdication of resolve
A padlock holds keyless
Around my offensive core.
I hunger for that which fades
For the death of stars,
For the ghastly lamp
For a pen that doesn’t smear
Whatever fluid chances
Upon its outcroppings of ink.
If not my pretenses
Then of what can I speak?
If only I could ditch you
Face down in our perversity
That I should never revisit
This shame, this prison, this bed
With its guttural, virulent musk.
*
Submission for
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/12/wordle-prompt-43-12-january-2015/
There is a park within visual range of our new house and Isadora has been there several times. The first day I went with her but when she saw there was another child she turns to me and says “I got this you can go home now” She made friends with a pair of sisters (not in her class) and has played with the neighbor (a boy in her class). I imagine she has talked to others as well, probably everyone within visual range. She also brought her cousin’s grandmother (not hers and not someone we’ve seen a lot) to our house so we could exchange numbers for when her cousin is in the area. She literally saw this woman on the street and asked her home to facilitate future social engagements.
So how was her first day of school?
She wasn’t nervous at all, she waltzes in confident/happy and is greeted by name by some children the moment she steps foot into the building (first day in a new school, a new resident in town). When I go to pick her up from school she has had a great day. She’s made 2 new friends. The teacher said she was really really good, she settled in right away. The next day Sam goes to pick her up and the teacher is shocked at how fast she has adjusted. She just walked in and she was part of the class. She has never seen a child adapt that quickly.
Today there was a lot of snow so she went to the park. An hour or two passes and Sam goes to check on her. She is surrounded by children (10 or so), all happily building an igloo she has hot chocolate on her face. She had started with her 2 park friends but then drawn in all these children to build this monster igloo. Anyhow Sam leaves her to play. Then around dinner I go to look for her. She is not at the house where Sam last saw her. She left saying she was going home for dinner only she has not come home. They suggest she might be at another house. I go to that house. The man invites me in right away, I have never seen this man in my life but he and his daughter know who Isadora is and suggest she might be in a different house because they saw her playing with a little boy there. I go to that house and she is there apparently before she could go home she was invited somewhere else. I was scared but everyone was nice, the woman in the first house was actually standing outside waiting to make sure I found her. Everywhere she goes people know who she is. She loves people. I can’t say she is never shy she has had moments (brief moments). Usually though she just goes for it what the hell, if they don’t play with her she just asks someone else. I am happy she is outgoing and confident but it is also scary. It is like the first time she saw a swimming pool as a toddler and she just jumped in dead center with a huge grin on her face.
mindlovemisery 