nayonnaise.blogspot.com
nayonnaise: My favorite thing about the new apartment...
http://nayonnaise.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-favorite-thing-about-new-apartment.html
Scattered thoughts from a young femme who used to call herself by the name of her favorite condiment. My favorite thing about the new apartment. Butterscotch sundaes with extra peanuts and chocolate concoctions (for Pickle) from Mister Softee, who stops in the middle of our new block every night a little past 10pm. It is usually a challenge to stay up that late with early morning puppy and work schedules, but still. Heaven. I have heard the legends of those! Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com
Write Club: September 2005
http://thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com/2005_09_01_archive.html
Any art, by any person. Friday, September 30, 2005. We'd be another numbers game. To stand in for the love that never came. Now I see us. Sweeping across that checkered floor. Moving to a familiar beat now. And we've learnt to ask for nothing more. The tears come to your eyes tonight. It was our hands that put this down. Before we even thought to put up a fight. So let me slip. From you hand finger-by-finger. Close your front door behind me now. And there is no need to linger. To put my pen and paper away.
thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com
Write Club: January 2006
http://thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html
Any art, by any person. Friday, January 27, 2006. Dystopia Unravelling, pt. 1: By Ropes, Through Dirt. The process begins by isolating the paranoia, and then the paranoid themselves. Paranoia meant fear, fear meant mistrust, mistrust meant opposittion, and opposition meant liquidation. My sentence was not read to me, or even given to me as printed record; rather, it was nothing to me but an icy conglomerate of green letters on a foreboding black screen. Freedom. Christ, is this really happening? I showed...
thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com
Write Club: October 2005
http://thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html
Any art, by any person. Wednesday, October 19, 2005. A final look at Mr. Badger. Posted by LmaC at 8:37 AM. Tuesday, October 11, 2005. The ship has sailed far out to sea,. The adventurer has left. The maiden waits for her true love,. Her heart, she thinks, bereft. She waits on shore most days and nights,. For her lover to return. He writes her almost every day. But soon would grow concern. Our sailor spent days on the sea. And went on with his life. His pen grew heavy as did his heart. And feel it unload.
thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com
Write Club: June 2005
http://thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com/2005_06_01_archive.html
Any art, by any person. Wednesday, June 29, 2005. The few priests we could find. Bit out their tongues to divine. Goodness today, dies while unheard. Best bleed within, before you speak a word. Glassy fragments, ghostly shells. Drifting bodies that ring with the bells. Left unfound, where long grass grows. Sharp voices muted, by Winter's cold snows. But Heaven had left, a solitary comet. Spitting its ash, the embers of a sonnet. Streams of love, of distance and madness. Clipped wings, fall from the dove.
thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com
Write Club: December 2005
http://thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html
Any art, by any person. Saturday, December 31, 2005. Happy new years Television. I love the way I turn you on. Tonight I'll raise a glass. And offer anothers years worth of Scotch soaked promises. Just listen, like you allways do. And let's stay in tonight and watch the world. And count the revolutions per minute. Posted by Information Sniper at 5:04 PM. Thursday, December 29, 2005. This is how you like to see me. The boy with paper thin cheeks. Awaiting a kiss from your broken glass lips. Maybe it is I.
thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com
Write Club: August 2005
http://thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html
Any art, by any person. Sunday, August 21, 2005. We rock in old chairs,. In time with the breeze. Smiling as we watch,. Our children play in the trees. That future is now faded,. And somehow has slipped away. But I could never get,. Those good things to rhyme anyway. Posted by The Duke at 9:11 PM. Friday, August 19, 2005. Who Needs To Rhyme When You Can Recycle Free Verse. Like the dandelion in my daydream. I blew those seeds to the wind. And choked all the flowers. And no amount of sunshine,. So please,...
thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com
Write Club: July 2005
http://thisisthewriteclub.blogspot.com/2005_07_01_archive.html
Any art, by any person. Wednesday, July 20, 2005. Inspired by the loss of nonprofitstyle.blogspot.com. Sorry, I only made 1 verse:. I can't see you. I can't hear you. I can't find you. I wonder where you've gone. I need you here, I need you. Where have you withdrawn? I've lost you girl, I've lost you. I wonder where you are. I'll find you there, I'll find you. Wonder if you're far. I'll find you girl, I'll find you. Bonus points if you guess who I am. Posted by m. at 11:02 AM. Wednesday, July 13, 2005.
