randomrules.blogspot.com

Random Rules

Monday, January 09, 2012. There on the swingset. Feeding a pigeon, one ******* pigeon. How it was morning and bright and sleep was. To physicality and kerosene one gender alone. Both. An event so rare. You come into town. And liberate the feet of the teens. We. Are stranded by snow. Falling-down-hopeless alcoholics, gag a little -. Force it all down, munch our hay. The milk truck had left. I vouched for that. It is my birthday. Bring on the razor. Make love to it and take me out to dinner. Pickle it.

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Random Rules | randomrules.blogspot.com Reviews

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Monday, January 09, 2012. There on the swingset. Feeding a pigeon, one ******* pigeon. How it was morning and bright and sleep was. To physicality and kerosene one gender alone. Both. An event so rare. You come into town. And liberate the feet of the teens. We. Are stranded by snow. Falling-down-hopeless alcoholics, gag a little -. Force it all down, munch our hay. The milk truck had left. I vouched for that. It is my birthday. Bring on the razor. Make love to it and take me out to dinner. Pickle it.

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Random Rules | randomrules.blogspot.com Reviews

https://randomrules.blogspot.com

Monday, January 09, 2012. There on the swingset. Feeding a pigeon, one ******* pigeon. How it was morning and bright and sleep was. To physicality and kerosene one gender alone. Both. An event so rare. You come into town. And liberate the feet of the teens. We. Are stranded by snow. Falling-down-hopeless alcoholics, gag a little -. Force it all down, munch our hay. The milk truck had left. I vouched for that. It is my birthday. Bring on the razor. Make love to it and take me out to dinner. Pickle it.

INTERNAL PAGES

randomrules.blogspot.com

1

Random Rules: March 2011

http://randomrules.blogspot.com/2011_03_01_archive.html

Wednesday, March 30, 2011. A treasure taken,. A You, an I. Posted by de vries. Thursday, March 24, 2011. Cloudy turbulence, berceuse. Out of this lacquered beast, a roof. Wanted me happy before the leave,. That bushy bearded sir. Fled my country at dawn calmly. Still peculiar to me. Posted by de vries. Tuesday, March 08, 2011. Do the words "You are gold" mean anything to you. Let them ring on and let's not talk at all. Let's leave it there and move on. Hey, what's wrong. Saving love whatever the cost.

2

Random Rules: December 2010

http://randomrules.blogspot.com/2010_12_01_archive.html

Tuesday, December 28, 2010. Gaslit old woman with hair and no sex. Looks over a river that thinks is the sea. Itself. What pride is there in having teeth. As crooked as your paved streets. You. Torture everything with your calm, your. Shallow streams, your trust in time. You are that stinky river, all of its salt,. Its brine. And disappearance, you die. By the West with infected pigeons. Flying as far as your mournful prow. Buried in the pleasures of your chosen fate. A peninsular incapability to mate.

3

Random Rules: November 2011

http://randomrules.blogspot.com/2011_11_01_archive.html

Thursday, November 10, 2011. A Letter Kept To Myself. It is somewhat what I imagine knowledge to be. Dark, salty, clear moving, forever flowing. Since our knowledge is historical, flown. A monotonous coastline, endless and sagging. Delicately ornamented by the moon still hanging solid. The poorest postcard of itself. I was waiting for this letter to find you home. I guess it will reach you on that waiting room,. I am too shy to stop. Cannot derange or rearrange. The Islands have not shifted since.

4

Random Rules: July 2011

http://randomrules.blogspot.com/2011_07_01_archive.html

Sunday, July 17, 2011. Tell me again where to hide. It is a secret as well. Along my dubious veins. Come closer, listen! Another fruit I have tasted before. Is it about me? No It is about war. Is it about me? Yes Only the part where you're tired. It has something to do with that song. About the divorced father, yes. Is there honor in this, or a point even? Not in me, no. You do it to get off. I beat you to it. It's because I am weak and you know it. Then tell me again where to hide. Posted by de vries.

5

Random Rules: January 2012

http://randomrules.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html

Monday, January 09, 2012. There on the swingset. Feeding a pigeon, one fucking pigeon. How it was morning and bright and sleep was. To physicality and kerosene one gender alone. Both. An event so rare. You come into town. And liberate the feet of the teens. We. Are stranded by snow. Falling-down-hopeless alcoholics, gag a little -. Force it all down, munch our hay. The milk truck had left. I vouched for that. It is my birthday. Bring on the razor. Make love to it and take me out to dinner. Pickle it.

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scratchingandturning.blogspot.com

scratching and turning: pacerer's nightsong

http://scratchingandturning.blogspot.com/2009/09/pacers-nightsong.html

Tuesday, September 29, 2009. Pacing back and forth. Past the time to sleep,. Stomach starts to churn. Skin begins to creep. Wish there was a way. To keep the sun at bay,. So I'd get there tonight. Before first morning light. Photo by Arnaldo Pappalardo. September 29, 2009 at 5:58 PM. Liked the photo and the feelings expressed in the poem. September 29, 2009 at 10:24 PM. Its indeed a beautiful picture, its a picture of downtown São Paulo, from a Brazilian photographer. September 29, 2009 at 11:04 PM.

scratchingandturning.blogspot.com

scratching and turning: keeping count

http://scratchingandturning.blogspot.com/2009/10/keeping-count.html

Tuesday, October 20, 2009. 20 cigarettes a day. Hopefully now 17),. 16, 13 pages written. Times 5 writing days a week,. 3 sets of each exercise,. Each with 15 repetitions,. 6 hours’ sleep,. 20 nights properly spent. Make 20 hundred (minus rent). 7 syllables a verse. 50 poems would make a book,. 1 idea might be enough. But I don’t know where to look. The sheep sure jump by. 21, 22), but I. Cannot see beyond the fence:. Where do counted numbers go. After you count them? Or do they perhaps accumulate. Fora ...

scratchingandturning.blogspot.com

scratching and turning: "all truths wait in all things"

http://scratchingandturning.blogspot.com/2009/12/all-truths-wait-in-all-things.html

Sunday, December 6, 2009. All truths wait in all things". To sit with me. And wait me free. I shut this day. With him in mind. But jazz I hope. Photo by Joel Meyerowitz. December 7, 2009 at 5:18 PM. Title by Walt Whitman. December 10, 2009 at 8:25 AM. Dear Author scratchingandturning.blogspot.com! I with you completely agree. December 18, 2009 at 8:51 PM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).

scratchingandturning.blogspot.com

scratching and turning: Sunday the thirteenth

http://scratchingandturning.blogspot.com/2010/06/sunday-thirteenth.html

Sunday, June 13, 2010. My good my ghosts my gusto. Who else will I trust, Zaratustra? You too is a ghost. Eerie image and words. June 13, 2010 at 3:52 PM. Photo by Martin Liew. June 13, 2010 at 6:15 PM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).

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randomrules.blogspot.com

Random Rules

Monday, January 09, 2012. There on the swingset. Feeding a pigeon, one fucking pigeon. How it was morning and bright and sleep was. To physicality and kerosene one gender alone. Both. An event so rare. You come into town. And liberate the feet of the teens. We. Are stranded by snow. Falling-down-hopeless alcoholics, gag a little -. Force it all down, munch our hay. The milk truck had left. I vouched for that. It is my birthday. Bring on the razor. Make love to it and take me out to dinner. Pickle it.

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