(34) Handpicked: Life is A Razor Blade

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<da:thumb id="299768654"/> You've Been Looking at Virtues, All WrongYou've Been Looking at the Virtues of Child, Man, and Woman All Wrong
In the end we're all myths, hermaphroditic deities.
Our names are the most real things about us.
        i. My mother named me for the Virgin
        and I carry her legacy in my blood—
        she is my spirit animal; the creature
        who crawled first across the placenta line
        outside my home. In truth, I imagine all
        are wolves or coyotes drawn by the smell
        of fresh blood.
        ii. There is no purity in childhood:
        we are simply jesters with blistered feet
        and the pu Look in Life's FaceLook in Life's Face
19-04-12
(Based on the quote: "To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is...at last, to love it for what it is, and then to put it away." By Virginia Woolf)
I have looked life in the face,
Yet never grown to like it;
Never grown to love it.
Life has been harsh –
Branding circumstance into my soul
With fiery whips of its cat'o'nine.
It razes possibility and
Sacks simplicity –
Until nothing is left but charred refuse.
I have looked life in the face,
Have stared down the barrel of a loaded bottle,
And have never loved it;
Only the thought of leaving it.
Life has flung dung in my face
More times than I can count,
Yet I am expected to go on living
As if every day is rosy;
No more with I attempt to love life –
I will simply exist day-to-day
And try to put life away.
bartlettand don't
tell me
fucking anything
listen,
there are nights
like these,
where we laugh until we feel nauseous,
and when
we get home,
we reek of fire,
and can't sleep
worth a damn
and i know,
i know,
okay?
these silences,
don't tell me
what they are
and
how do i break them?
or is it better
if i don't?
and maybe
you don't know either
oh,
i hope you don't
know either contemplation of another weekthere is no drowning you
in anything I can find
you are the eternal sorrow
of that which I imagine
to be my salvation
constantly changing
never achieved
eluding my mind
from whence you spring
a paradox therein lies
in wait to pounce
feeding on me
while I smile blithely
never can I run
fast enough
to catch you
when you are inside
drowning me a long awaited return.It was raining when we landed.
A shock
to our sun-drenched systems,
stumbling with snatched-
away sleep.
Another bus, another train
whirring upon endless tracks.
We run, we flee through foreign streets –
disdainful eyes stare on,
watching fugitive
outsiders -
desperate for a taste
of home.




WonderfulTyrant


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his writings hold powerful emotions and intellectual introspection.
rants, hilarity, creative sarcasm, relevant photography and impressive poetry.
i'm sorry if my words fail me, WonderfulTyrant but know that your words cross my mind.

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