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nothing makes sense | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/nothing-makes-sense-and-i-think-of-you-constantly
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. Sadly, neither do i. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out. Notify me of new comments via email.
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cartography | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/cartography
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. Do I fill a tiny hull with burned paper and cast it out? Whisper goodbye with a carefree breath? Sigh so the wind will carry you and your blue eyes out to the giantness and the sweetness and the restlessness of the sea? This is you. This is where you belong. And I belong here. Pulled under by the blue of my screen. The cold. Do I wait? Do I become a cartography of the old cliche: a scientific draft of the chambers of the heart? Join 3 other...
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home is a mythical creature | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/2015/06/10/home-is-a-mythical-creature-2
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. Everything is Stolen. part 1 The honest truth. June 10, 2015 · 12:46 am. Home is a mythical creature. We inaugurate any dissolution as comrade and conspirator. And carelessly abandon these suspicions. In favor of all that is sweet, ripe, nascent. We rename and readjust the delicate reflections. The the little edifice we have constructed to our dear hope. Eventually tiring of holding these phantoms,. You and i,. Leave a Reply Cancel reply.
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there is no quiet | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/there-is-no-quiet
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. There is no quiet. There is no quiet. If the fuzziness around the edges is buzzing, and the restless air reeks of static and anticipation…where do I rest this conviction? I know you are there. I can feel the pull. the tide of your breath. And, what would I do? Laugh nervously and dig my toes in the sand? Blush and pretend I have another reason to be here? The blue, shiny umber of the horizon is beauty I cannot understand. I try. Som...The c...
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Failing and Flying, by Jack Gilbert | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/2012/03/15/failing-and-flying-by-jack-gilbert
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. Everything is Stolen. part 1 The honest truth →. March 15, 2012 · 1:18 am. Failing and Flying, by Jack Gilbert. I just found this one today, courtesy of the New York Times…. Like the people who came back from Provence (when it was Provence) and said it was pretty but the food was greasy. I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell, but just coming to the end of his triumph. Everything is Stolen. part 1 The honest truth →. There is no quiet.
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bread, milk, soap… | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/bread-milk-soap
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. Bread, milk, soap…. Damn you’ve got you. what have i got? 2 responses to “. Bread, milk, soap…. January 28, 2009 at 10:08 pm. How do you make the simple things seem holy and large? February 12, 2009 at 4:21 am. Don’t forget some butter for the pies. Your crusts may not be famous but they are better. My flaky golden heavenly mouthful. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:.
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the facts | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/the-facts
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. There’s a slip. Like a lost key. Or was she pushed? 8230;they’d like to know. He feels the shock. In the place that he uses to calculate. Things like what’s still due on the rent…. He remembers things like. When he found his goldfish on the linoleum. Below her clear bowl;. He thinks of times that he could not find her number. He imagined once, when she did not call. That she was lost inside a magician’s box. Or sawed in half! You are commen...
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black bird/ hollow bones | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/black-bird-hollow-bones
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. Black bird/ hollow bones. Walls of indian tapestries. And a silhouette of bones. Bones that were scattered in ash. In the end, anyway. Bones exposed by hunger. And i can remember. Heavy, broken sticks tied together. Beneath your hospital issue. And high. on stilts…. Angled into the room. You were all angles and bones. Who missed you;. Even came into the world. To watch your weight. Scatter like breath,. But not hollow,. Wont float to ether.
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equator/equation | Laamsha Young
https://laamsha.wordpress.com/equatorequation
Black bird/ hollow bones. There is no quiet. Bread, milk, soap…. When they talked about you. It was mostly about your hips…. Maybe a bit above a white towel. And sometimes i wondered if they thought. About your eyes too. Or the way you can push your own-ness. So intensely against the tide. 8230;or scrape your belly sidling a giant tree. Or ride or run fast enough to hurt. And i’ve wondered. If, maybe, you have a giant rope or gossamer thread. Tied to an equator, that makes you travel and. I m not the only.
