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kiraburton « Poetry and Freelance Nonsense | kiraburton.wordpress.com Reviews
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Poetry and Freelance Nonsense
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Iconoclastgrey Word Artist « Love it. Hate it. Just feel something « Page 2
https://kiraburton.wordpress.com/page/2
Love it. Hate it. Just feel something. Newer posts →. Melt like a sugar cube. Of poison on my tongue. As I self destruct. In you I will always place my trust. The past and the toxin. Repeat the apocryphal prayer. And brand my soul unforgiven. By my side and I have no say. You whisper your prayers. And I am your prey. I mutter, I shriek,. I call to these four walls,. And in every language I beg. Caress me like a lover. Where no one can see. And when our fights. Become fists, and kicks, and injury. Attempt...
Scarlet Shame « Iconoclastgrey Word Artist
https://kiraburton.wordpress.com/2015/07/13/scarlet-shame
Love it. Hate it. Just feel something. That a scarlet letter. Was branded on my psyche. The first was a C for crazy. The second a U for uncontrollable. An O for outcast. It was not long before. They became badges of honor. Time went on and soon. I had a new letter. The letters now burned. Were vivid for all to see. But quickly I saw. Who has placed them upon me. Wore their own letters. An F for fear. An I for ignorance. In one way or another. We all wear the symbols. Of fear and shame. A D for different.
Letter to a Father « Iconoclastgrey Word Artist
https://kiraburton.wordpress.com/2015/08/07/letter-to-a-father
Love it. Hate it. Just feel something. Letter to a Father. They say you either die a hero. Or live long enough to see yourself become a villain. But when a man lives as both. Walking a tight rope. Crossing and crossing again. You rode through the night. And chased the wind. To wipe away tears. And teach questionable wisdom. When a man lived as you did. He is bound to join the fallen. King of decaying castles. In the halls of my brain. You made me who I am. Thank you is not enough. The smell of leather.
Damaged Inc. « Iconoclastgrey Word Artist
https://kiraburton.wordpress.com/damaged-inc
Love it. Hate it. Just feel something. The cards we were dealt in life were all jokers. But they had sharp teeth. And became the shades that haunted our sleep. And left us starving with only emptiness to eat. So we swallowed it whole. And rarely let it show when it made us weak. They gave us gifts. And it was too late before we knew. Emotion nearly lead me to death. Anger almost destroyed you. Add to that the glory of genetics. Then self-loathing prances in. Lying through the teeth of a sadistic grin.
Eternity is Just Another Word For Freedom « Iconoclastgrey Word Artist
https://kiraburton.wordpress.com/2015/07/15/eternity-is-just-another-word-for-freedom
Love it. Hate it. Just feel something. Eternity is Just Another Word For Freedom. It was the sweltering middle of summer. I was sitting on my porch in the shade lamenting this horrible season. I hate summer. For as long as I can remember I loathed the sun soaked days. Everything bad seems to happen during those months. Maybe that is just me making a self-fulfilling prophecy but regardless of that and much unknown to me; summer was about to rear its ugly head once again. Why are there so many bugs? Questi...
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hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com
About | Hyperbolic Silence
https://hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com/about
The Blog of H. M. Edwards. Poetry Updates Mon-Thur. Updates Mon-Thur, unless health issues prevent. Follow me on twitter https:/ twitter.com/H M edwards. One thought on “ About. Katrina B. Abad. September 2, 2014 at 9:57 pm. Thank you for liking my poems and following me at I Live Because He Lives. God bless! Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Email (Address never made public). Notify me of new comments via email.
hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com
Drinking Mercury, Auto-Fellatio | Hyperbolic Silence
https://hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com/2015/08/14/drinking-mercury-auto-fellatio
The Blog of H. M. Edwards. Poetry Updates Mon-Thur. Drinking Mercury, Auto-Fellatio. August 14, 2015. All of this shit. To cure a cancer. That is eating a. Hole in my body. Bring me no joy. Death of the author. Pissing in the wind. Can get something out. Maybe I can too. All of this is in vain. None of this does. I’ll keep writing anyways. As I suck on. Because you’ll keep reading it. This entry was posted in Poetry. Imbibed Avarice →. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here.
hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com
Small Hands | Hyperbolic Silence
https://hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com/2015/08/12/small-hands
The Blog of H. M. Edwards. Poetry Updates Mon-Thur. August 12, 2015. And a heart full of care. She doesn’t fear me. Her tiny body next to mine. She makes it an armor. Forces before my eyes;. She says she’ll protect me. From the monsters I see. And show my diseased mind. From a gentle child. As she hums a lullaby. To help me bid. And enter one with no fear;. For her innocent voice. Makes my demons disappear. This entry was posted in Poetry. Drinking Mercury, Auto-Fellatio →. Leave a Reply Cancel reply.
glitteringafterthoughts.wordpress.com
The Fringe | Glittering Afterthoughts
https://glitteringafterthoughts.wordpress.com/2015/01/29/the-fringe
All that glitters…. Out of the Corners. I hear cigarettes crackling under moonlight shadows. Firewood crackling on top of salt deserts. I feel glass splintering. And washing-machine thoughts catatonic. On the tip of my Tongue. I can taste ugly words. And stagnant air sticking to the roof of my mouth. I smell wolfish intention. I see black and white sighs. They face each other, speak, but their words are muffled. How did it happen so fast? We can’t go back now, but then where will we go? January 29, 2015.
readbycandlelight521.wordpress.com
March 2015 – You're waiting for a train
https://readbycandlelight521.wordpress.com/2015/03
You're waiting for a train. You're waiting for a train. March 27, 2015. I thought you should know. When you ask me how I feel,. Do you ask for the lies? That I am ever ready to spit out,. A broken record spinning on a broken gramophone. Or do you ask for a rare sliver of honesty? Where my heart speaks, unrestrained;. I know you too well to know the latter,. Would shock all of your five senses. A rude awakening of sorts. Dispel the image of the obsequious girl,. Ever ready to conform to the standards.
readbycandlelight521.wordpress.com
About – You're waiting for a train
https://readbycandlelight521.wordpress.com/about
You're waiting for a train. You're waiting for a train. I have always been a precocious child, or so I’ve been told. Hence it should come as no surprise that at the tender age of eight, a nagging doubt was sown in my mind. What doubt you ask? Well to put it simply, I had begun to acknowledge the futility of human existence. What if we are but mere goldfish, swimming in circles all day and rejoicing in our distorted view of the universe? Will my writing down these words ever bear tangible fruit? Thanks fo...
hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com
Social Order No.3 | Hyperbolic Silence
https://hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com/2015/08/03/social-order-no-3
The Blog of H. M. Edwards. Poetry Updates Mon-Thur. Social Order No.3. August 3, 2015. Forgiveness is a vile thing. Hatred satisfies our lust. Egregiously their hearts they bring. How dare they sow the seeds of love. No greater virtue is this. Than to love those who hate. To your own bloodlust dismiss. And to raise up, instead of denigrate. This entry was posted in Poetry. A Kill Rate of 97%. On Hubert Selby Jr. →. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Email (Address never made public).
hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com
On Hubert Selby Jr. | Hyperbolic Silence
https://hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com/2015/08/04/on-hubert-selby-jr
The Blog of H. M. Edwards. Poetry Updates Mon-Thur. On Hubert Selby Jr. August 4, 2015. He was an angry scream. Looking for a mouth. In a mad man’s dream. In a life going south. He was an unfulfilled anger. A mind fraught with danger. That was always on the attack. This entry was posted in Poetry. Social Order No.3. Fucking pills… →. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Email (Address never made public). Top Posts and Pages.
hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com
A Kill Rate of 97% | Hyperbolic Silence
https://hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com/2015/07/29/a-kill-rate-of-97
The Blog of H. M. Edwards. Poetry Updates Mon-Thur. A Kill Rate of 97%. July 29, 2015. I met a man. But I won’t be here. Like the dead man he is. Sitting in the store. What he might have been. Who his first love. In the list of. That we all keep. It made the store. It made me feel. Like I was wasting my time. With a walking corpse,. For the time I wasted. Then his phone rang. After one last wave. I’ll probably never see him again. This entry was posted in Poetry. Bawdy Songs: Rick, Jacque, and Bob.
hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com
Fucking pills… | Hyperbolic Silence
https://hyperbolicsilence.wordpress.com/2015/08/11/fucking-pills
The Blog of H. M. Edwards. Poetry Updates Mon-Thur. August 11, 2015. I take so many pills. It’s a wonder I don’t choke. They do some good. And not always in a good way. Not the way they said it would. That’s the crazy one. This entry was posted in Poetry. On Hubert Selby Jr. Small Hands →. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Email (Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out.
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kiraburton « Poetry and Freelance Nonsense
Poetry and Freelance Nonsense. Letter to a Father. They say you either die a hero. Or live long enough to see yourself become a villain. But when a man lives as both. Walking a tight rope. Crossing and crossing again. You rode through the night. And chased the wind. To wipe away tears. And teach questionable wisdom. When a man lived as you did. He is bound to join the fallen. King of decaying castles. In the halls of my brain. You made me who I am. Thank you is not enough. The smell of leather. My brothe...
Kira Butler writes speculative fiction for young adults
Rosencrantz & Hemlock. The King of Eight-Legged Things. Lady of the Grain. The Skeleton and the Corpse Candle. Rosencrantz & Hemlock. The King of Eight-Legged Things. Lady of the Grain. The Skeleton and the Corpse Candle. Writes speculative fiction for young adults. Completed manuscripts currently in query, and available works in progress for consideration. A sample of free short stories: wonders, terrors, and explorations in the darker side of speculative fiction. HOLY CRAP. You guys are going to LO...
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The Neverafter
Upgrade to paid account! The Writing of Kira Butler. August 25th, 2014. The Cemetery Drive: Liminal spaces, rites of passage, revenge voodoo, and telling summer to go to he. July 22nd, 2014. Someplace between then and later. July 2nd, 2014. The Bad Girl's Guide to Breaking Up. June 25th, 2014. This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time. June 16th, 2014. What Gambit and Rogue taught me about writing original characters. June 4th, 2014. My Writing Process Blog Tour. May 24th, 2014. Mac Apps fo...
The Marvelous Misadventures of KiraButt
The Marvelous Misadventures of KiraButt. Wednesday, December 1, 2010. Losing Faith In Mankind. When I was in my teens I always carried so much anger with me. There was always so much going on at home and school, that I was never able to balance it all out. Anyway, it left me somewhat of a bitter person. I was always sarcastic and rude with people. I was so used to feeling insulted that I automatically became defensive about anything. And now I leave you with the cutest picture ever! When I finally got ho...
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