rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: April 2012
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2012_04_01_archive.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. On the bad days I see myself through the eyes of someone wicked. Someone who picks out her flaws and fears that those around her think less of her for. Your anger does more damage than you think. While you yell at us and put us down, blowing holes into our hull. Without a second thought. We are left sinking into seas of sadness. I am. I shouldn't blame all my faults on you of course. But I feel that you hav...
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: March 2013
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2013_03_01_archive.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. ABCRC, y u no job? Well, I've got to go to class now. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). ABCRC, y u no job? One foot on the ground. Something that I wrote last month. Interview about Twin Tongues. A line allows progess, a circle does not. All my life,. Analytical Figure Drawing SP08. Kirk Ramdath, Poet. Follow. obey. ect. The moon is high. If you don't have an answer,. Make sure you don't get asked the question.
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: Bad Day
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2013/06/bad-day.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. There's no way to know. It was so sudden. She was off for the past week, but had been getting better. Then out of nowhere she was overcome by this pain. I don't know what brought her down. I wish I did, wish I could have answers. But the fact remains that she's gone. I don't know how to feel. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). One foot on the ground. Something that I wrote last month. All my life,.
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: neighborhood nights
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2013/03/neighborhood-nights.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. March 25, 2013 at 1:56 AM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). ABCRC, y u no job? One foot on the ground. Something that I wrote last month. Interview about Twin Tongues. A line allows progess, a circle does not. All my life,. Analytical Figure Drawing SP08. Kirk Ramdath, Poet. Follow. obey. ect. The moon is high. If you don't have an answer,. Make sure you don't get asked the question. View my complete profile.
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: June 2013
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2013_06_01_archive.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. There's no way to know. It was so sudden. She was off for the past week, but had been getting better. Then out of nowhere she was overcome by this pain. I don't know what brought her down. I wish I did, wish I could have answers. But the fact remains that she's gone. I don't know how to feel. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). One foot on the ground. Something that I wrote last month. Interview about Twin Tongues.
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: October 2012
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2012_10_01_archive.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). One foot on the ground. Something that I wrote last month. Interview about Twin Tongues. A line allows progess, a circle does not. All my life,. Analytical Figure Drawing SP08. Kirk Ramdath, Poet. Follow. obey. ect. The moon is high. If you don't have an answer,. Make sure you don't get asked the question. View my complete profile. Watermark template. Powered by Blogger.
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: May 2012
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2012_05_01_archive.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. When did we split off the evolutionary tree and plant ourselves in the soils of skewed priorities? At the heart of it, we are all a part of it. We are all connected, and we are all affected when mother Earth is disrespected. So come with me, and we'll protect it. This is my message, this is my fight. Living the life of the environmentalist's plight. Harper calls us radicals, stops us in our tracks. But regardle...
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: November 2012
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2012_11_01_archive.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. Today I had the long awaited meeting with my poetry professor Richard. We met at Kensington Pub to discuss my poetry and my performance, and just to catch up. I had brought my latest poem to get his feedback and this is what he told me to do:. Dont settle for disposable, opt for compostable, reusable sustainable; a green future is attainable. Instead of mindless expansion we should be expanding our minds. Worki...
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: January 2012
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. The only good thing coming of this never ending situation is that there's always material for poetry. I don’t remember the last time you did something nice for me. Can’t you see why I’m upset? And I think we’re due for a mutiny. I shed the walls and let you in. Open your fucking eyes. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). It was an odd experience. Obviously enhanced by th. Open your fucking eyes. One foot on the ground.
rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com
rude awakenings: January 2013
http://rudeawakeningstowishfulthinkings.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html
A mish-mash of thoughts and obsolete phrases, a walk through the desolate mind of a mad-woman. We aren't going about this the right way. This Earth is not a resource. She is not a commodity. She lives, she breathes,. She can feed us with her fruits yet we rip apart her flesh,. And drink her blood. Pump. Her dry and leave her sighing. Sometimes I think we are a virus. Twisted around this globe,. A puerperal parasite feeding happily upon it's host. Sometimes I'm disgusted with what humans have become.
