Locks are pretty,
Long layers in a dream,
Dazed,
Dazed by the possibilities which I am too lazy to pursue,
The story plays:
Once upon a time in a kingdom far away,
Walked a princess,
Locks of beautiful bronze,
Hand in hand,
With a man of grace.
I walk.
Outstretch my hand to a ghost,
And we walk along
In days that become dusk
We linger in this limbo,
Here,
But not really.
Locks are pretty,
Like a paper bag prom dress.
Pretty, if we pretend.
Pretty, if we squint our eyes.
Half blind,
Half blind.
But dont you see,
The paper bags generosity?
But dont you see,
How good is she,
Too busy to brush
Too fr
Youre a really good friend. Id just prefer you didnt have a penis. You see, I have this phobia of oblong shapes that just kind of jut out at things. You know its just kind of out there.
I mean, youre great, really (for a guy). If it makes you feel any better, youre the most feminine guy Ive ever met.
Oh, please dont cry! I mean its not you. Dont blame yourself. Its just your body.
Well no, I wouldnt say Im afraid of zucchini. They arent threatening in the same way. They arent imposing. Penises impose.
I mean, I couldnt zip up my v
There is a Lake in Antigonish by Lynielle, literature
Literature
There is a Lake in Antigonish
The first time I saw you,
I saw right through you.
I wouldnt let my eyes see you,
Because you could have stopped me in my breath.
There is this thing,
This thing that happens that Im afraid to feel,
But you could make me feel
feel sick,
feel the sway of a light head on a numb body.
My hands got cold,
Because the heat of my body rushed to places that Im not supposed to talk about.
So I looked right through you,
Like a glass wall
the kind the dogs walk into.
They dont see it,
Colour blind
But they feel when they collide.
Im afraid Ill feel it too.
Declaration towards a future by Lynielle, literature
Literature
Declaration towards a future
I sense.
I listen with my ears engaged.
I see in light and shadow.
I see in depth.
I remember to take full yogic breaths
so that I catch whiff of my surrounding.
I am strong enough to support myself.
I am strong enough to exert passionate energy.
I am wise enough to listen - to know when to retain.
I think about what to say.
I sit with my back bone straight.
I breathe.
I breathe IN the summer.
I walk through fall to a winter that is barable.
This is my metamorphosis.
This is who I'll be.
And now the cocoon conceals me.
I will be,
I will be,
multi-facetted beauty.
Strength,
Wisdom,
Aged.
I will be rooted trees.
I will b
"I want to prepare food with you because I trust you."
I want to enjoy your company.
I envy your entrallment with life.
The way you feel every moment breathing
Lived every moment of the day and settled into night.
you've come alive.
And sometimes I feel like clematis or Ivy,
Clingy,
Climbing,
Creeping for the sun.
I don't feel worthy of your presence sometimes,
But you always looked me eye to eye,
heard me ear to ear.
Stranger?
Friend?
Acquaintance?
What should I call you when you come riding
Backpack slacked on your basket bound bike?
What should I call you when you make me feel worth this life?
...Like this life thrives i
Space cadet starship traveller by Lynielle, literature
Literature
Space cadet starship traveller
Her devotion to my was taught.
Tide tight to my fingertips.
stuck--that unwanted stuck
That sticks like milkweed
Slowly stumbles from my tongues tip
STICKS...yet I feel none.
Not the glue of her body to mine,
as if someone had uplifted her body as the poppet
And raised her closer to me so that she weighed...
Not enough to pull my strings.
I was so far off in my mind that she stood here,
On earth.
I was in another place.
Inner/outer space.
I was a cadet travelling on starship nine.
Hello thoughts,
cosmos,
mind.
Hello mind.
Arguments of Tarnas dance in my head
and I contemplate whether or not there is division between the d
can you love these bones?
Do they make you uncomfortable,
because I hear you "whoa"
I see you cringe.
I am more than emaciation.
I am more than a body barely thin,
Barely seen.
I am soul,
I'm transition.
I'm attracted to the light.
But, you don't take me seriously
Think thin girls are shallow,
When it is their depth that left them drowning
Hidden sorrow,
What you don't know is what you don't see.
Can you love these bones?
Can you wrap them in beauty?
Can you see the blood run thin inside my veins?
Can you stand with me when I need to feel the rain,
Because sometimes I need to feel,
Yet you run away as if I were something u
If I could be dangerous,
I'd be the allure,
So I became something of barren grounds
of thistles and dust mites
and a bed of bones to break your body.
I knew that if I met you
That I'd be this black hole
And you could not espace my pull
I Pulled you all too close,
held you all too tight,
scraped you off onto me
and you looked at me
After colliding with the reality of our situation.
But I loved you -- in mind
But I could not convey the thoughts,
lips moved too slowly to tell the tale
But my muscles ache for motion.
EmphaSIZE
Hyperbolize my proportions.
Distort me,
Until I resort to retort into a smaller frame.
Save self/ Self Sabotage
Make myself minute so I can hardly compute
this mass media of mixed messages:
"Slim Fast/ Big Mac"
Sate your hunger for under 100 calories,
Or,
Try our new hormonally injected chicken wings
-They cause insatiable cravings
But they're cheap, cheap, cheap.
(until they reep your pocket change,
Quickly clog your arteries.)
You see,
We are sensory machines
-As ignorant as some may be-
It all seeps through subliminally.
So long as we depend on mass marketing,
So long as we step onto the street
Peer at a bil
Every strong woman that Ive met in the twenty first century
Is manic depressive or manic happy,
Fake smiling,
You can see it in their eyes.
Measuring their waists or over indulging.
Then all passer-bys walk by them like theyre ghosts,
And they get the idea that they might as well be.
You see, intelligent woman are a weapon,
They turn the medias mask into a translucent layer,
They are post conventional moral thinkers
They jeopardize the design
Because a smart girl uses her mind.
So shell eat her brains through starvation,
So there is nothing left of her but a cocoon,
But dont worry, that
She forces her writing.
Leaving it bitter and salty to open ears.
She knows no other way to write
-For now -- at least for the moment
Everything is use -- reused
Recycling is urged these days.
Becoming an artist
Famous for plagery,
That's the Dao
of today isn't it?
Ten year olds in tank tops
With bare bellies
That beckon a pedophiles paradise,
All in the name of beauty
-- Or Brittany.
Birthed by the media,
Sold in magazines,
In markets,
In retail,
To place dollars,
From dolled-up pre-teens,
Masking insecurities,
Into our economy.
Turning Big-eyed school girls
Into sausy red-heads
To which perverts
May fantasize their
I lay in lady's ashes
Succeptable to thoughts
Resonating nostalgically.
Still thinking of you.
How it is to know you
Seeping through my skin.
I feel your breast,
And you touch my heart;
Hanging me in a heaven of our sins.
Adam, allured by her song,
Flaunted the devil's fruit.
Reciprocating temptation
Swaying the tides with his breath.
I think of you when I'm lonely,
Sitting with a timmid posture,
sinking into my seat
Ankles crossed
-Cosmic communication,
As if you linger in the stars.
The clearest thoughts are conceived at night.
When the moon vacants our mind with its radiant glow
That opens our pupils to the slightest degree
So we may percieve the shadows.
We are the night lurkers,
That wander through the narrow streets.
We are the drunkards.
The tokers.
That take what compassion,
What comfort bare's in the moon.
We are the lovers.
That tuck strands of fallen hair behind perked ears,
And stroke the pulse of her neck with our finger tips.
Embodied passion,
That grows in our silent solitude of the day,
Expelling itself by night.
The burning cigarette lights the sky on its inhale.
The waterfronts draft is cold and pale like your heart.
I should feel great, wrapped in draping linens.
But I feel dirty inside.
Another stub in your pile of cigarette butts.
Wondering if this is what a whore feels like.
I am below you in so many ways.
I am a lucky lady but I am dragged along for the ride under you.
A deer in the headlights that you have conquered,
Another road kill you have crushed just to drive away.
Time Reverses,
Watching headlights pass
Flash
-- Industrial bolts blind,
Minuted Pupils
Leaving us alone in perception.
I stand here.
My body solidified by the the speed,
So I trangress into the scenery,
Becoming but a bee buzzing in the background.
You're ubiquituous,
Blossoming despite the storm
And I turn a blind eye
But my body soaks you up
~Osmosis
At a scientific level.
I can't defy
My deaf ears
Closed eyes
But my body ~ Crumbles in your presence,
And my tongue swells.
I walk away,
Because my blood boils
And I wouldn't want you
To see me blush.
To my brother Bush
And his happy hubby Harper,
I oppose the establishment of government.
Whether it be democratic,
Fascist,
Or an autocracy.
First off let me state the following:
There is no democracy that is free, even in the free world.
Chained to veins of majorities
That contains the sins of history embedded in their genes
As their sweat secretes,
They spread disease epidemically,
Marketing: Oppression,
Projection,
As a cure for your insecurities,
And you,
Taught through institution
To abide to seniority,
Will let yourself be undermined,
And undermined your ability to rationalize,
Let yourself be hypnotized,
She stumbled onto foreign ground,
Bate to hungry eyes,
Feeding their needing glares,
With her beauty.
Trapped in the emptiness of her soul,
She bounded to them,
They being a like,
Trapped in empty sorrows
Of an incomplete soul,
Searching for something,
No one can give,
But can be taken,
As a token of validity,
They stole her from humanity.
In the caverns darkness,
She fed them her grace,
Leaving herself no familiar trace,
Of her spirited upraise.
With stolen jewels,
They littered their souls,
With rotting wealth,
That killed the baby
Buddhist on the rise,
He never rose in foreign site,
But he drained her dread
The History Keeper by The-Blink-of-an-Eye, literature
Literature
The History Keeper
His pale hands like albino spiders weaving a web of words on the paper, the letters writhing like the bugs trapped in the webs. The rolls of paper he had already written lay like corpses in the square shelves, each one wrapped in ribbon and stamped with a seal. The room was silent except for the soft scratch of his pen as it flew across the yellowed paper.
He wasnt a record keeper, as that implied a man hired to record the ebb and flow of the kingdoms assets, and he was no such thing. He was the History Keeper. The one who made sure Father Time didnt completely destroy everything. He made sure history stayed the same, no
Through androgynous hips
I leak power
Over thought,
As the line blurs
It becomes curved
Depending on the day of the week,
My back straight
I articulate
In a monotone tone
Just where my genders flown,
There's no classification for me
Why yes
Technically
I am a female
And I'm extremely cool with that
I'd rather be me
Than be stuck as a man
In your gender classified
Barbie / ken doll mold
Roles of societies norm–perfected,
I have rejected
My pink dress
And I will not
Wear a blue suite
I'd rather wear my purple
With its rainbow back drop
And stripes of black
With a sweet pretty girl seated on my lap.
Current Residence: Canada Favourite genre of music: Rock, indies, "women's rock", "lesbian stuff" Favourite photographer: Alyssa Milano Personal Quote: Just another butt in the ashtray
Favourite Visual Artist
Emily Carr
Favourite Movies
Girl, interrupted/requiem for a dream/ V for Vendetta/ Buying the Cow/ Poison Ivy 2
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Liz Phair, Aimee Mann, Alix Olsen, Cat Power, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Pink Floyd....
Favourite Writers
Janet Fitch, Atwood, Anthony Keidis
Other Interests
Acting, writing, Wicca, Women, sketching, cooking, veganism, egalitarianism, Charmed, Buffy
Symbiotic/Abiotic:
Syllables or antomons?
We die naturally of a slow over-oxygenation.
We breath our organs into weathered cells.
Do you control me?
Do I control you?
Do we bicker because we have nothing but each other and that is so frustrating? We have no one else to take the frustration out on.
I don't control you anymore. My resistance is feeble. You'd be nothing without me but I need you and you are far to aware that I would lie in bed at night missing you if I were to let you go, so you grasp me harder.
I would hate myself if I lost you. I let you go twice before, you inched backwards and I came closer to you. I hate that you c
Ratio 2:1
bad to good.
Skip two classes and I know that I'll have to pay for it tomorrow.
Wendy wasn't here so I decided to shorten the day. No period 3 and no period 4.
Giselle was in a bad mood and I fed her fire by laying just outside the fire pitt knowing inevitably I will catch and her flame will grow.
Good in skipping glass I gave my bus seat up to a woman and he Crystalline. She was a beauty with a perfectly circular extra piece of cartlege (sp) on her thrid eye. We communicated through our eyes.