WonderLust
WonderLust
1 hour ago      5 seconds ago

Be brave
You already are
Look what you survived through
The wounds of your past have closed
The seemingly endless chapter ended
The dark bruises faded lightly
The battle left you scarred
And your still here
Be brave

Caitlin
Caitlin
3 hours ago      22 minutes ago

I sat outside and
thought of you again.
This time for far longer
than ever before.

I proceeded to call you for
the first time in over a year and
I could feel my heart beating in my chest
I felt it throbbing in my neck and my wrists and
I could hear its steady rhythm come to a halt when
you told me you'd never loved me

Those words with which you'd kissed me and
hugged me and
made everything okay were
just lies and only lies
and maybe I misheard you because
I dropped my phone
and it fell with my heart
into the pit of my stomach and
I still can't seem
to pick either up.

Hiiiii. I've been working on this for waaaaayyyyyy too long, and it still isn't finished, but I'm at a point where I think it's good enough to share and maybe get some feedback? I dunno, I've still gotta edit it and add some more, so it's a work in progress. Was thinking of recording this and making it a spoken word too maybe?????
#love   #you   #phone   #calls  

Old Deuteronomy’s lived a long time;
He’s a Cat who has lived many lives in succession.
He was famous in proverb and famous in rhyme
A long while before Queen Victoria’s accession.
Old Deuteronomy’s buried nine wives
And more—I am tempted to say, ninety-nine;
And his numerous progeny prospers and thrives
And the village is proud of him in his decline.
At the sight of that placid and bland physiognomy,
When he sits in the sun on the vicarage wall,
The Oldest Inhabitant croaks: “Well, of all …
Things… Can it be … really! … No!… Yes!…
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My mind may be wandering, but I confess
I believe it is Old Deuteronomy!”

Old Deuteronomy sits in the street,
He sits in the High Street on market day;
The bullocks may bellow, the sheep they may bleat,
But the dogs and the herdsmen will turn them away.
The cars and the lorries run over the kerb,
And the villagers put up a notice: ROAD CLOSED—
So that nothing untoward may chance to distrub
Deuteronomy’s rest when he feels so disposed
Or when he’s engaged in domestic economy:
And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: “Well, of all …
Things… Can it be … really! … No!… Yes!…
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My sight’s unreliable, but I can guess
That the cause of the trouble is Old Deuteronomy!”

Old Deuteronomy lies on the floor
Of the Fox and French Horn for his afternoon sleep;
And when the men say: “There’s just time for one more,”
Then the landlady from her back parlour will peep
And say: “New then, out you go, by the back door,
For Old Deuteronomy mustn’t be woken—

I’ll have the police if there’s any uproar”—
And out they all shuffle, without a word spoken.
The digestive repose of that feline’s gastronomy
Must never be broken, whatever befall:
And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: “Well, of all …
Things… Can it be … really! … No!… Yes!…
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My legs may be tottery, I must go slow
And be careful of Old Deuteronomy!”

Of the awefull battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles:
together with some account of the participation of the
     Pugs and the Poms, and the intervention of the Great
     Rumpuscat

The Pekes and the Pollicles, everyone knows,
Are proud and implacable passionate foes;
It is always the same, wherever one goes.
And the Pugs and the Poms, although most people say
That they do not like fighting, yet once in a way,
They will now and again join in to the fray
And they
Bark bark bark bark
Bark bark BARK BARK
Until you can hear them all over the Park.

Now on the occasion of which I shall speak
Almost nothing had happened for nearly a week
(And that’s a long time for a Pol or a Peke).
The big Police Dog was away from his beat—
I don’t know the reason, but most people think
He’d slipped into the Wellington Arms for a drink—
And no one at all was about on the street
When a Peke and a Pollicle happened to meet.
They did not advance, or exactly retreat,
But they glared at each other, and scraped their hind
     feet,
And they started to
Bark bark bark bark
Bark bark BARK BARK
Until you can hear them all over the Park.

Now the Peke, although people may say what they please,
Is no British Dog, but a Heathen Chinese.
And so all the Pekes, when they heard the uproar,
Some came to the window, some came to the door;
There were surely a dozen, more likely a score.
And together they started to grumble and wheeze
In their huffery-snuffery Heathen Chinese.
But a terrible din is what Pollicles like,
For your Pollicle Dog is a dour Yorkshire tyke,
And his braw Scottish cousins are snappers and biters,
And every dog-jack of them notable fighters;
And so they stepped out, with their pipers in order,
Playing When the Blue Bonnets Came Over the Border.
Then the Pugs and the Poms held no longer aloof,
But some from the balcony, some from the roof,
Joined in
To the din
With a
Bark bark bark bark
Bark bark BARK BARK
Until you can hear them all over the Park.

Now when these bold heroes together assembled,
That traffic all stopped, and the Underground trembled,
And some of the neighbours were so much afraid
That they started to ring up the Fire Brigade.
When suddenly, up from a small basement flat,
Why who should stalk out but the GREAT RUMPUSCAT.
His eyes were like fireballs fearfully blazing,
He gave a great yawn, and his jaws were amazing;
And when he looked out through the bars of the area,
You never saw anything fiercer or hairier.
And what with the glare of his eyes and his yawning,
The Pekes and the Pollicles quickly took warning.
He looked at the sky and he gave a great leap—
And they every last one of them scattered like sheep.

And when the Police Dog returned to his beat,
There wasn’t a single one left in the street.

Jadie Roten
Jadie Roten
3 hours ago      26 minutes ago

Puppy love is the first and best part
of any romance
When you are new,
and holding hands never gets old,
and hugs are plentiful
When the world stops around you
Everything seems flawless
Serene
Lazy smiles,
Dazed eyes,
Perfection.
Please don't let this end
It's too glorious.

Oh if only puppy love lasted forever

#love  
Venusoul7
Venusoul7
1 day ago      28 minutes ago

I enjoy the perpetual blanket of unrefined cotton clouds snug tight against the night turned day, grey and unrelenting.

There is a thin film layer then
in between ~

Me.            Myself.      &        Eye

If I blink real hard and purposeful, I'm sure it would all dissipate....

Pin-popped balloons always do....

Sitting outside. My black leather coat has seamed to have shrunk....
Nan Trapp Messer
21 hours ago      1 hour ago

As I look up, as I do every night. My thoughts,my heart are...where. I know.  Looking up to the sky. As I do. I can't help but to...think, wonder. Are they there, looking back at me ? I SO hope so

Thoughts of my SON and OTHERS that I miss, too much
Dustin Carpenter
Dustin Carpenter
18 hours ago      1 hour ago

Tied to the mast, I hear duende in the Siren's song.
It comes down from the black mountains
    Like onyx shining,
    Cloaked in shadow.
Who can predict its path, its direction,
A cyclone of ancient fury.
Ink-stained wings beat the air;
       We vigilant poets cast our nets.
It is in the clap and step of the flamenco
Dancer;
In the last breath of the blue guitar.
In the hand reaching for illumination,
     Like lightning it cannot be harnassed.
It moves in creation
      And destruction.
      Waits defiant in the desert
      For the negation of sand and wind and Time.
It is in the painter's brush
Sweeping indigo across the canvas; the image of his
Naked lover thrumming.
        In the veins of the soldier, the brain behind
        The gun.
It is there in the paradise lost,
Where heroic Satan gathers lost angels to make
Another assault on heaven.
         In the rag the prince uses to polish his beloved
         Fool's gaping skull.
Seeps into crypts.
Languishes in the dark aura of stain glass windows.
          In the split seam of desperate lovers.
It is the eucharist
And the sacrificial lamb,
Thick and scarlet in the offerings made at pagan temples.

It is the girding underbelly of the
Hunted child.
The child full of dark and light.

I call.
Do you hear me Crow?
My black twin.
I summon the anger that demands justice.
I invoke you.
There where you feed on battlefields
On putrescent flesh.
You stain that cannot be washed out.
Come and invigorate this timid heart.
Make me a hero
           Because right here
           Right now
           This is my time
Bring your black fire and death song
To we who honor your name.

 
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