I TOO have a garret of old playthings.
I have tin soldiers with broken arms upstairs.
I have a wagon and the wheels gone upstairs.
I have guns and a drum, a jumping-jack and a magic lantern.
And dust is on them and I never look at them upstairs.
I too have a garret of old playthings.

kd miller
kd miller
10 hours ago      10 minutes ago


sitting on the wooden bench in the middle of the park the
couple across from us rolls something
to smoke the “hooligans”
(who am I? That was me months ago)
congregate on a bridge overpass
a dog lies down

your tears do not fall steadily and well
practiced like mine,
in a cacophony like an abscess
in a concrete dam wall

clutching your shirt, cursing masculine dogma,
my fingernail pushes a little orange seed of water and you
blindly take out a pack of menthol

you offer me one– you never do
I take it, light it, burn it out after five moments,
I press my face against yours so our tears blend, this nodule of saline congregating merging like a bacteria

as it falls ahead on the ground
our tears, one
hit the Silent concrete on the grey New York

fat rats  play on the nettles behind us.

Amy Leigh
Amy Leigh
1 day ago      12 minutes ago

.          The closer I look
the more I notice
a pattern;
Little triangles
folded into eachother

(exhale); collapse  —
     (Sink in)        .

"A wave, an awesome wave
That rushes skin and widens in flooded veins
Breath in, exhale, I've poked a nerve"
—Alt-J (Bloodflood)

Sorry I havent written in awhile guys. Found this little gem tucked in the back of my old journal. Not sure where I was going with it.. but I know at some point I had planned to finish it before posting but Ive deceided conclusively in this moment to leave it unfinished because, so Ive recently come to realize;  some of the most beautiful things in life are left unfinshed.
Ella Rosebud
Ella Rosebud
1 day ago      18 minutes ago

She saw the box and her heart did flutter,
Her fingers fumbled and her conscience muttered.
The clasp undid, the lid lifted free,
And oh the horrors the world would now see.
The rivers were dried and famine did reap,
So many a soul there were none left to weep.

She lay on the floor and she cried and she shuddered,
For she was to blame, only her and no other.
The gods fury was that of which she most feared,
They would take all she loved and kill all she reared.
Distraught and sobbing on the floor of that room,
A notion of peace interrupted her doom,
From the box it emerged and the darkness then broke,
For last but not least the world would have hope.

1 day ago      20 minutes ago

We were a sunset. A beautiful progression, finally approaching it's ending.
We meet, bright and forming; your yellow rays of blaze fusing into my blue, silky sky.
Morphing from solid oranges and blazing yellows, to placid purples and tenacious, seducing pinks.
Coral red base lining, the clouds turn grey to the core, almost black. With rosy pink below, and baby blue above, a sort of white has met in the middle, the dark clouds intoxicating the innocence, the brilliance.
With a quick glance elsewhere, and looking back at the setting sun, all has quickly faded.
Now only two colors remain: a dark, devouring blue flowing into a waning, innocent white, no longer any clouds in sight.
Just as we burned together, danced in roaring color, and molded into one another, now we fade; fade into nothing, maybe even everything, yet left alone, only one of our colors remaining.
As the ardent black of night consumes the last of radiant blue, little is left to be seen among the twinkles of stars and gaze of the moon.
Though we may now be a black nothingness, forever we have the dancing of the stars and triumph of the moon to evoke what of us has been left. A beautiful progression into an even more scarring, alluring finale; what once was, into what will always be.

#love   #moon   #stars   #sky   #you   #breakup   #us   #sunset  
3 hours ago      34 minutes ago

who ever sees them
in this canopy of night
until one barks out…
tracers, hot light?

this ground
cleared by chemical fire
from orange barrels, then blessed with monsoons,
kneeling, feeling, the modern moors’ mush
wet my knees

do you see
what I do? do you hear,
do you fear, slant eyed demons
who can blend into the ground
make not a sound

it is too late for me
I have seen them, I have
made them black with light
crisscrossed with crimson
too late for me, after all
this fine art I crafted

other pictures I painted
still dripping in my dreams
you can't see them, framed
by my memory, lies
I wanted to believe

forty-five years
to the day after I returned
my grandson, six years ancient
told me what happened to dinosaurs
I didn't see a meteor but I don't tell him
his brown eyes wide with curiosity
when he rubs the scar on my arm

his tender touch takes me back
to the fields where the invisible game
still lay, waiting for me to return
to resurrect them, and me
but I cannot see, what
was never there

To my knowledge, this Vietnam recollection has nothing to do with the Bruce Springsteen song, Hunter of Invisible Game, though the title itself did inspire the piece.
Natasja Raven
Natasja Raven
1 day ago      40 minutes ago

I am saying goodbye.
Asking myself would you care if I died?
Would you even notice?
I guess you won't.
I don't care.
I am not going to die.
I am just going to look for someone who will care when I do.
Someone who will notice, unlike you.

#love   #sad   #pain   #lost   #dark   #hurt   #goodbye   #leaving   #bye   #unnoticed  
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