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When Nothing ChangesLast night I fell in love with the girl wearing amber drop earrings and a wrinkled men’s undershirt. I always wonder what people mean when they say “she had sad eyes” but I don’t wonder anymore, not after I saw her.When Nothing Changes
Her jeans fit her well but her t-shirt didn’t. It pooled at her belt and slumped around her shoulders. She wore it they way people wear borrowed clothing, but something made me think she’d had this shirt for a long time—it had just never lost the shade of its former owner. There was a song playing quietly above the talk of the diner, I remember not liking it, I don’t
by ~sirensin
The Stroke, The Will, The SeaIn this den echo unspoken selves, could be, close-eyed sighsThe Stroke, The Will, The Sea
off walls fulfilled and uncertain
in this my home I wait for a waking that may never break our functional comfort with the current in which we dip our fingertips and cradle our swaying distance.
We skim each other letting our affection lap and settle.
It is tireless, tideless.
I tire of this shore, the sure. Yet within this seacarved cavern I know the salt in the air will do however sweet it sharply lingers
by ~sirensin
Favourites
Post-coitalRelief beyond words: A single perfect red drop On the porcelain.Post-coital
by ~ladygekko
Cheers Darlin'Tainted by thy golden chalice of love, Heavenly poison from thine lips doth flow. No saintly promise of hope from above, Merely sweet discontent sent from below. I a cursèd drunkard in thine heart's cage, Tangled in sinews and beaten by pulse. A sickly idler trapped by passive rage, Tormented leper condemned to convulse. I loathe thee, mine beauteous tormentor, Thine holy essence plays hell with my heart. But still I love thee mine raison d'être, Thou God-sent strumpet, thou virginal tart. This love eternal doth keep me alive, Though bitter and twisted,Cheers Darlin'
by ~realfunfuneral
Fauxindependence
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Moonlight and crystal dreams
Wrap your arms around yourself
As the rain continues to fall
If you use meter, or would like to learn, please drop by!
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Metrical poets of the world: Unite!
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_-=-_
Happiness, by
The Interview, by
Rusting Bridges of Suburbia, by
So, I did some peruzing, and earthed up these three pieces.
Happiness is beautiful in its own simplicity, and has a subtle kick to it that I find lacking in a lot of reading these days.
The Interview is an interesting little for-the-stage piece that I found myself cracking up over, all over the place. There's some great humor and dialogue going on here, as well as some great subtle toss-ins for the actors to experiment with. Something I would love to see performed.
While Rusting Bridges of Suburbia might be a little ho-hum subject-wise, the rhythm and control of meter that ~ honestbrutality has accomplished here is impeccable. It takes a lot of practice and a lot of control of vocabulary to get a good rhythm in a slam piece these days, and it's done beautifully here.
Get writing, fuckos. *jesusbite
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