Sunny afternoon

75 degrees

Breeze
     Flowing
          Blowing softly through the slightly cracked window

Trees
     Swaying
          Laying rhythmic undertones to lyrical chirping

Me
     Smiling
Snuggled so tightly
     Pressed against your skin
Entangled limbs
     Indistinguishable as to where you end and I begin

Our
     Hearts and Breaths
Synced
     Collaborating
Producing a soothing lullaby as we drift off to...
      Sleep

I miss afternoon naps

     With you

In

     The afterglow

                                   after...



© Tina Thompson

Ten minutes is all Sabyasachi Mukherjee has. “Can you keep the interview short,” I’m asked, as the announcement of his participation in the finale of Lakme Fashion Week’s upcoming Winter Festive show is made. Is ten minutes enough to recap the 14-year journey of this master of colour, cut and construction, I wonder. But I realised that Sabyasachi in rapid-fire mode can make ten minutes seem like twenty! Excerpts:

What is it about LFW that made you return?

It’s here that I first made a mark as a designer. I’m familiar with the format, and know the people. It is like a homecoming. The good thing about LFW is that everything is taken care of – from building the set to inviting people. So I have the freedom to focus on the clothes. It is like putting together a complete show, but doing only half the work!

Finales are a challenge – given the expectations of people in the fraternity, profiles of attendees and the intangible themes created by Lakme for interpretation into garments…

Well, it’s not at all difficult for me. This is my fifth finale at LFW. Once the make-up and hair are set, it is easy to imagine the look and what the girls must wear. I’m way too senior to worry about pre-show stress. My biggest pressure comes from whether I will like what I create. Beyond that, even the critics’ reaction doesn’t really concern me.

Will this line too be about Indian-ness?

Whether I do Western, Eastern or a combination, I always use Indian handcrafts, and all my clothes are handmade. Traditional textiles, block prints, weaves and embroidery are a constant in my collections. The theme being “Illuminate”, this line is about red-carpet clothes with a strong shimmer quotient.

Sunday was National Handloom Day. Considering our diverse range of homespun textiles, do you think everyday must be celebrated as handloom day in India?

Absolutely. It is mandatory at my stores. My staff wears only handloom saris or kurtas made of hand-woven fabric. My Instagram hashtag says ‘Wearing handloom everyday.’

Social media plays a significant role in promoting tradition. Smriti Irani’s ‘I wear handloom’ campaign on Twitter and the 100 Saree Pact are recent examples. Isn’t it time designers too found new ways to promote heritage?

Yes. As more and more Western brands enter the market, our designers must first establish an identity of their own. The Zaras of the world are bringing active prêt into the country, so it is important for us to revive the market for Indian clothes. Reinventing tradition and rethinking marketing strategies are critical at this point.

Has the hustle of today’s business taken fun away from fashion? How do you strike a balance between creative expression and commercial viability?

Oh, that’s very simple. I set my own rules. For instance, this year, I had too much on my calendar. I didn’t do ramp shows, I only had a showing on Instagram. Established designers must create new templates that suit their creativity instead of allowing the market to set the pace for them. Because, at the end of the day, only if you have the time and space for creative expression, can you create beautiful clothes that determine the durability of your brand.

If you were to spell out two major problems faced by the fashion world, what would they be?

Lack of originality. Lack of self-belief.

Fashion has evolved into a glamorous industry, and today, many youngsters want to be part of it. But most of what we see on the ramp and in the retail space are risk-free repetitions.

Well, for designers to evolve, the market has to evolve. But the mood is changing. There are designers who are willing to push boundaries and clients who are ready to experiment. Facebook, Pinterest and Instagram are changing the way people see and respond to fashion. The horizons are widening. This is a wonderful time for young designers to launch their labels and sustain their inventiveness.

Very few Indian designers have taken the effort to document fashion. What about you?

Yes, I will at some point in time get down to writing about my brand. But for that, I will first have to find the right publisher!

Many corporate players are keen on collaborating with designers.

I receive so many proposals for collaborations that I refuse one every day! I am collaborating with Asian Paints, Forever Mark and Christian Louboutin. Another huge one is coming up – but I will not be able to speak about it at the moment.

Do seasons really matter any more in the world of fashion?

Global warming is making designers understand the importance of season-defying clothing. And people too, I feel, don't shop for seasons any more. They just want beautiful clothes.

Can you update us on your forays into jewellery design and interiors?

I have collaborated with Hyderabad’s Kishandas & Company to create some iconic pieces that are hugely popular — and of course, plagiarised! I have a line coming up for Forever Mark. As for interiors, I wanted to design homes, but people did not seem to have enough confidence in me! (laughs) So I ended up doing up my own stores. I have also done up the Cinema Suite for the Taj in London. Celebrities who have stayed in the hotel have appreciated it. A significant collaboration in interiors is happening in October.

Your suggestions to keep traditions going…

People need to be educated about handmade textiles and crafts. A time will come when China will lose out to India because as people become aware, they will only want to support products that are ethically sourced and foster craft communities. Surprisingly, the new millennials are in favour of luxury that is completely handmade. I see that as a positive sign.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses

By This Sword 911 Is Avenged
This was written right after 911 now I’m rewriting it from the time that has passed a cooling a distancing has occurred in us not in our
Enemies I will write the first paragraph basically as it was written then go from there. They have cells; we have wells and mines, Wells
Of emotion for God, flag and country the mines are far flung and close at hand. From these mines, the blacksmith is hammering out a New sword of liberty the material comes from all of our battle fields in our national history. These make up the strong wide back
part Of the sword the sharp keen edge that is terrifying to behold this material from the Pentagon, Trade Towers, and from our four
American commercial airliners filled with Americans. The dross of the terrorists have been skimmed off and purified by our national prayers
And solemn vows for justice now stands one giant the sum of us all. The sword has just been placed in his hand. Let’s talk about the
Sword it cuts both ways-coming and going. The giant holds it flat, moves it back and forth in front of him underneath the land is
Pictured perfectly back up on the blade it hums like a dynamo let’s start it from the place the atrocity and carnage occurred I wrote
More about Miss Liberty in Imposter you ought to read it one of our greatest minds for freedom and liberty Lincoln said these should
Be taught to every child and from every pulpit and school house and every public arena should resound with the truth about this
Great enterprise and experiment in human government. I also wrote Freedoms Citadel and Fertile ground about Jefferson and the
Constitution the reading of them was tepid they mean little in today’s conscious mind but in these very matters freedom live or dies
The blade appears out of the black smoke that stunted and muted Miss Liberty and her awesome record and history here is where
Hell left its signature. I will after all add a part of what I wrote in Imposter America proud land of liberty; too long it’s been just a
Veneer, freedom you espouse, to have this you must clean prejudice from your house. True greatness finally you will know, when it
Shines through all colors, to do this you must rediscover the bedrock of your heritage. Truly believe the words that say "We the
People words that shook the elements, only being surpassed at creations stage. To long our apathy has been collaborating with our
Enemy’s no more, this challenge is given to restore. Opportunity’s open door let us our energy out pour. That freedoms passion soars,
As in the past ******* it tore. Land of light continue, Miss Liberty your lamp burning bright. Oh great nation receive your benediction
And knighthood from her continuous burning flame now advance our freedom and liberty through the bright rays of truth that founded
This nation the blade shines and burns away all deceit it tells truth and shows our mistakes and so when it passes the white house one
Who comes from the fount and central place where Lincoln’s Shadow is so pronounced if Lincoln could rise he would make short order
Of the junior senator from Illinois he would Exposé his political views as not true American but a hybrid who speaks a world view not
A Central American one his history makes him Espouse thoughts and ideas that are not held by most Americans they are contraire to
What the founders envisioned but with Personality and ability to speak well he has made inroads especially in a liberal setting the voters
Will realign this error the blade passes on inland it moves across the coal mines of Pennsylvania it stops and hums with a drowning
Sound at the site where brave Americans Fought in the sky and died saving many others here is a great place to show the difference in
The two different swords battling for Rule in our world today yes they have a sword it is one that beheads their own people or at
Times the lives of the innocents must perish to it savagery forged in hell it gleams but with every conceivable power of evil the more
They use it the more they destroy they burry themselves in the tangled web that no man can escape from a recent telling of Liberia’s
Civil war will cast true light on the sword they wield with such relish one of the Generals in this conflict and let me add here the same is
Going to happen in to the drug lords in Mexico in one form or another salvation or destruction from Him who is really in charge so this
So called General in Liberia was doing what he did best slaughtering the innocent and helpless two of the nuns ***** and killed with
Their three companions had just attended our worship service two days before their deaths. But into this evil spectacle He who is all
power and holy spoke general you are nothing more than someone who is being used by the devil and the devil had one other to ****
Three hundred people a day add that up to three hundred and sixty five days he did it to keep empowered by the devil but our general
Couldn’t get away from those simple but true words he came to the united Pentecostal mission church went to the altar first he lay
Down the defiled sword went to a church that preached baptism in the titles instead of Jesus name the bible says if you desire truth on
The inward parts you will be led to all truth he argued for six months saying he saw no difference but he called from Nigeria all excited
There was a difference God gave him the revelation the bible says Christ is the beginner and finisher of our faith he starts and finishes
What he starts this former butcher went to the altar in the mission mentioned repented was rebaptized in Jesus name filled with the
Holy Ghost spoke in tongues as the bible said this is the only way to remove the sword from a deceived and dying race born to blood
And cruelty because the master liar entered the world as a false religion in the desert an unexplained terrifying light is gleaming
As a mirror but this one is shaped as an eagle with its talons inches from the back of a unholy fiend his life is an insult to all eastern people
That love their country as we love ours pray that we honor our dead by not making widows and orphans of the innocent. Bin Laden
Stand if you can we did not desire blood but you cut open our veins made us replace our loved ones with marble stone we hear a new
Sound in the desert, groans of death, and your fixed lot by our God who is true and holy.

The lion mentioned is not the man but the
hate and the source of all hate is Satan “Bread corn is bruised” Isa 28:28 Ignatius
Martyred in Rome after being taken from Antioch, who is better to speak to our recently martyred people He said God has made me
Bread for his elect, and if it be needful that the bread must be ground in the teeth of the lion to feed his children, blessed is the name
of The lord a new Christian foundation is being laid and within the walls of this our national home. There is a sacred field with deep
Furrows the victims and future military dead the precious seed. Our tears and their sacrifice will water this future harvest, from this
Rich grain the baskets of spiritual bread will overflow, we presume not to feed ourselves but our enemies also the Arab world cries
from Hunger and evil agents of Satan feed them poison. However we know the great physician who will heal us from this blight.
The blade has passed to the end of our land and back prayer alone can keep it pure and sharp and it will devour the enemy of us all the sword
Satan wields an ineffective beaten sword if we but pray for truth and light for all.

she was a masterpiece behind the glass draped in gold
he was tired and homely, his rage was growing old.
the line between them was bold
but it's fine
because they ignored the disparity
of dissimilarities
through this discrepancy, they painted their canvas
with lust and expectations
they could never keep it going, a senseless apparatus
neither could sense the strength of the connection
binding them hiding them individually,
the two became as one
two to one,
counting down the moments to their
untimely demise;
when the two are no longer as one,
but none.
none could've predicted the end,
not once
but twice
when they failed
they tried
and tried again
he told her she was heaven sent,
and he was shrouded in sin,
what they didn't know is that
they were one and the same.
cut from the same cloth
but rarely clothed when they were together.
Stayed high together
one could say they were
birds of a feather
they were lost but now they're found;
she was once was okay but now she's drowned.
deep under her love for him,
she tried to float and coast through
but it was no use
his love and adoration was all she had to lose
it was enough to clear her mind of the emotional abuse
but it was not enough to clear her heart of the love.
As she lay in his bed
praying for him to come closer,
he stayed as far away as he could.
and although he knew he could love her
he wasn't sure if he should;
she was jaded
and the time they shared had faded.
but in her heart she made it,
she could fade it!
She was lost it in all her minds of minds.
Trouble is growing from underneath the seams
how they've stayed intact is a mystery,
leave all the bad in the past
it's history
the present envelops her
with his presence
and it consumes, it engulfs her whole.
She finds she cannot live without him.
he grows cold, distant
she realizes he's already gone
and she disintegrated into his front lawn,
with all the dead leaves
and fallen trees
He says,
"i'm already gone."

You don’t want to read how I started to begin this piece I told my wife she laughed and said you surly don’t want to start it that way.

They just don’t get it they don’t have a bomb big enough to do us irreparable harm they are
Fighting deep ideals built on the bedrock of freedom that is conditional to the finest part found
In the human spirit you can ****** our bodies and **** but you only succeed in increasing our
Love for our way of life and that fuels the same motivation that has defeated such evil stupidity
That comes and goes in the earth and then it seeps back down to hell where it came from while
Truth gains more followers and flourishes you cannot crawl out of your damnable hole and long
Exert and defame something first you senseless deceived one who lives only in darkest
Ignorance takes the foolish steps of being already a spoiled creature that is barely alive due to
The poison you feed on regularly your appearance is of the living devastation and desperation
Yes that is a real plus who wouldn’t want to follow the message of one who portrays the dregs
Of life personified and then you spew words and actions that are nothing less than the totality
Of defeatism please come and be a slave to our beliefs and don’t worry tyrants will be provided
For you that will make sure you have not one moment of confidence in yourself to govern
Yourself everything you do will benefit a complete idiot and then you will be called onto call
Them great because you know how worthless you are please let me pull out from this dive from
The clouds of living death turn the plane back just for the joy release the canopy fly low over
The Greatest terrain and land the world has ever known it allowed men to step on the immortal
Stage of history and declare these words that are a part of our national DNA do you think you can
Separate us from their hope and meaning by human conceived cold blooded acts I have no doubt
You can come up with them but you are the same as trying to tear down a pure wall of steel with
A needle it only shines and gleams the brighter as these words below  
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Your efforts are like you moving the Rockies with a shovel we have collectively a many layered
Depositary of thoughts to speak of this I will insert my own written thoughts as an American I will leave the
Explanation at the top also we know we are not perfect but we are still the greatest experiment ever
Undertaken in human government it began from Greek and French origin but we perfected at least to the
Place it is now

Imposter

California has two places we would escape the hectic bay area Central Coast and Disney land. We were staying at a smaller hotel right by Disney we got to know the owners they were very down to earth. We were setting in the glassed in game room by the pool well the husband came in with nine business men from Japan they were talking about buying his hotel. This was back when everyone bashed Japan. The next morning my wife went to the pool I was thinking about those men did I want to bash them or go a different way. God gave this to me it came in a rush it was written in fifteen minutes it is patriotic and it deals with our great blessing that is wrapped in diversity


From where did the lie first spring
The face I show I don't even know
The truth does sting so to falsehood I cling.
Best to wear this disguise, continue with the faceless mass.
America proud land of liberty; too long it's been just a veneer.
Freedom you espouse, to have this you must clean prejudice from your house.
True greatness finally you will know, when it shines through all colors.
To do this you must rediscover the bedrock of your heritage.
Truly believe the words that say "We the people."
Words that shook the elements, only being surpassed at creations stage.
To long our apathy has been collaborating with our enemies no more.
This challenge is given to restore.
Opportunity's open door let us our energy out pour.
That freedoms passion soars, as in the past ******* it tore.
Land of light continue, Miss Liberty your lamp burning bright.


Last one I will share here in this piece


Fertile Ground


O thou great Jefferson in whom dwelled the fidelity of a nation of free men.
Thy secretes can be viewed as we watch you live and breathe the life of a grand Virginia planter
When one is a student of nature and observes its subtle lessons becomes its master and ally. The next
Step of going to lead men is reasonable when taken into count the natural gifts that were refined in
Quiet fields and hills in lengthy times of treasured solitude that is not to say there won’t be difficulties
But to a merchandiser of lofty thoughts this is of little consequence. There are issues that must be
Divined through the protracted business of hard arduous study. Man’s soul drifts in and out of the valley
And hills taking unconsciously truths that exist they are everywhere but can be buried in life’s clamor.
To purposely walk across a field with your with your senses open will usher you into a place quiet
Unsettling if you are one who is uneasy in your own thoughts because the vistas will allow your mind to
Extend it to the far reaches ordinary thoughts will jump over conventional restraints and give you
Profound insights Jefferson graduated from this school of higher learning for this very important time
This man of stature arose he flung freedom’s door wide open walked through set down at his desk and
Masterfully penned immortal words, to this day time hasn’t diminished any of their importance or there
Revered excellence this document would go unparalleled in type and execution, in forming the basis for
Human conduct it would forever alter the landscape that that had existed before its grand arrival.
The stinginess of former centuries were at long last over the mind had finally
Liberated the body the willingness to do for one’s self had taken the lead there was no
Turning back, these actions would recommend them as a people. Their credentials intact now they were
Ready for the world stage a new birth of nobility walked into the human condition and it wasn’t
In the least bit hesitant to speak thoughts that had long been silenced.
The trouble today stems from the lack of understanding we have about the truth,
Of what oppression would be unleashed if our form of government would be allowed to be dissolved we
Love the dream but deplore the reality. That this system will only work when we are involved. It has a
Built in detection device, you can’t use its rewards without paying it back with service.
The results will be contagious you will be left with a weak sickly government.
The remedy simple everyone has to be its central guardian.
This does not mean that it is weak this was the way it was created it is as strong as you
Are willing to have it know this it will always be dependent on human involvement.
We might not like it but we are making a choice freedom will be loosed or bound by our decision.
The product that we deal with is very supple and ever changeable it becomes whatever form you pour it
Into this is in accordance with its nature it also is a gauge of those that handle its virtues and shows if
You have had reverence or contempt. You will be left with honor or disgrace did you carry forth the gift
Or allow it to waver the children of the next generation are watching.


We are purist in thought and deed when we rally around the flag and the Constitution but sin is a reproach to any people or nation to right our path we must return to our fore fathers commitments to be faithful and true to God and man you don’t know me if you think I can’t go on but our one resource that is in short supply is time in this modern life so I will be considerate it is true that right will win so we will bury our loved ones and from it will only increase in strength and our country will continue to be the envy of the world

newly fallen yellow leaf
suspended in mid-air

passers by
absorbed in their heads

missing this magic
missing her gifts.

Mother Nature
her creatures
her elements

collaborating together
every moment
bringing art forth so new

gravity and
season Fall
a spider's strong silk thread
and all

leaving this is small
wonder
for all to share.

of which
no other
can compare.

California has two places we would escape the hectic bay area Central Coast and Disney land. We were staying at a smaller hotel right by Disney we got to know the owners they were very down to earth. We were setting in the glassed in game room by the pool well the husband came in with nine business men from Japan they were talking about buying his hotel. This was back when everyone bashed Japan. The next morning my wife went to the pool I was thinking about those men did I want to bash them or go a different way. God gave this to me it came in a rush it was written in fifteen minutes it is patriotic and it deals with our great blessing that is wrapped in diversity

Imposter
From where did the lie first spring
The face I show I don't even know
The truth does sting so to falsehood I cling.
Best to wear this disguise, continue with the faceless mass.
America proud land of liberty; too long it's been just a veneer.
Freedom you espouse, to have this you must clean prejudice from your house.
True greatness finally you will know, when it shines through all colors.
To do this you must rediscover the bedrock of your heritage.
Truly believe the words that say "We the people."
Words that shook the elements, only being surpassed at creations stage.
To long our apathy has been collaborating with our enemies no more.
This challenge is given to restore.
Opportunity's open door let us our energy out pour.
That freedoms passion soars, as in the past ******* it tore.
Land of light continue, Miss Liberty your lamp burning bright.

the world according, to a star-studded journalist -
writing the magazine Saturday column, a she, mind you,
all learned about seeing the world: well, only New York -
she's hip! she's funny! she's downright a prop'ah scumbag -
and i say: the iron curtain should have turned into an iron skirt...
but then Pope Jean-Claude von ****, the second, opened up
the brothel... i too would have liked a ****...
but hell, it was always going  to be a bony **** at best...
raise a family? REJECT! they think their post-colonialism is an
affair of scented parchments of hope, what they did in Africa,
they're suddenly doing in Europe... shush-bags of wisdom,
let's get the house in order: i'm a perverted snail, i **** toads for
practice, i ***** out salty ***** on the rotunda circuit of cries:
justice! justice! well, if ever i spotted a deaf ear, it'd be now.
so there she is lazing about with a column on Saturday,
and she drops the New-Irish words: and M & S, buying swimwear,
hoping for a Burkini... the lighting and the flooring gave the place
an unhappy, postwar, eastern European (a new continent, mind you)
vibe. i half-expected a forklift truck to drive past me,
delivering potatoes to some far corner's "thursday potato display -
sprouted ones half price." out of the blue a leprechaun jumps out,
a real ventriloquist by trade, and does a rendition of that famous
song: we all eat potatoes here, nothing but *** *** potatoes!
tra lala la. this fetish in western society, potatoes: the famous mash
and chips... cabbage... and the famous coleslaw...
eastern Europe: land of landfill sites and mountains
of potato... which magically turn into lakes of *****...
and cabbage... i got to know more about the world by being
half the tourist i was supposed to be... and half of what integrating /
assimilating into a host culture allowed: St. George can
hang a ****** on the washing line, and Lizzy can shave her head...
     i'm a patriot of language,
simple as, a patriot of language,
not a patriot of the culture that incubated the language...
first of all check-out North Korean propaganda films,
second of all ask why you received the Marshall Plan
funds, inc. Sweden, which was neutral during the war...
then bewilder yourself as to why you're selling us
a farmer's stereotype, but as the grand observation
of the bellybutton suggests: they're the ones stuffing
crisps into buns and eating it with cheese and ham
at every lunch-break... farmer here, farmer there,
******* potato fetishist anywhere...
and you wonder why i retain a patriotism to the language
rather than to the people that speak it...
they didn't make it easy, and they're certainly not
making it any easier... Leprechaun Irish -
potaytoe - potaytoe - potaytoe -
so the expectation is... i'm a slave, you're the master,
i get to visit the opposite of Auschwitz in the cotton
colony? well, at least the existential answer is simple
in Auschwitz - our german brood will do the job more
effectively... we don't need you, off to God you go...
in a cotton colony? our people are superior,
we need slaves to do the work that our people are not fit
to do... and this is diabolical logic, i don't deny it,
but i'd rather be told to die than be told to live and work
for someone's amusement and benefit...
simple... p'ahtaytoe!
                                    it seems that whenever they
came to Poland they only came to Auschwitz, now,
all of a sudden, i'm the collaborating ****,
the stain on Polish soil, as already noted:
Egypt has its pyramids, Poland has German chimneys...
******* choo choo and Thomas the tank engine rolled into town...
how can you ever attempt a full discrete and competent
assimilation / integration when you have to end up
a solitary form of ethnic cleansing, where bilingualism
is treated as a mental illness, and you have to, in effect,
spit at your parents to embrace an English wife,
with an English household, with 42.3% chance of divorce?
what's the ******* point of that? at least in my
culture monogamy had a sense, not here, among
the brutal brats: who rather than having learned to care
for children, after petting an animal, just leave them
like stray wild dogs, not free to roam in forests and
fields, but in angst ridden kennels...
                                       well, Japan is selling me euthanasia,
cos reaching old age was going to be such an achievement,
that everyone started begging for the living standards
akin to Sudan: dead at 40, dead at 40 and nimble.

Getting the fashion industry excited about an event is no plum task. And yet season after season, Anna Sui does it with her thoughtful and fun runway shows. Blame it on her ability to transport her audiences deep into her world full of references that range from Pre-Raphaelites to Diaghilev to disco. (Of course, the retro soundtracks and top models don’t hurt, either.)

Lately, Sui’s been sharing her passion for fashion history with a wider audience by taking on many collabs, the latest of which is with O’Neill, in stores now. Just in time for summer, the designer crafted a selection of swimwear and cover-ups that echo the bohemian mood of her main collection but also target a new kind of customer. We caught up with Sui at her Soho store to reflect on her career, her favorite muses, and texting with Anita Pallenberg.

You’ve been doing more collaborations in general lately—why is it important to you to diversify into these arenas?

Well, there are certain limitations that we have as far as production for what we’re able to do. A great way to overcome that is to work with somebody who has the expertise in that product. So working with Frye, they make the coolest, sturdiest boot that you can imagine, and so I think this is my third time collaborating with them. They’re just dreams to work with. It takes you to another place. And also you learn so much, because we’re so limited as far as resources now that it opens up new avenues. I did the same with the Coach bags and with the luggage with Tumi and now this collection with O’Neill.

How did you get involved with O’Neill?

Our sales manager knew somebody at O’Neill, and she started thinking that it would be such a great pair-up between O’Neill and Anna Sui because O’Neill is very much our girl. They’re very print-oriented and known for their surfer style, but we wanted to incorporate our bohemian style with it. I think that we’ve blended it so well. The clothes are just so dreamy; we were all just oohing and ahhing over these lace pieces.

That perfect white lace dress is a very necessary summer item.

It’s so true. I remember one summer I was looking at Naomi [Campbell] pictures on a yacht on Daily Mail or something, and every day she had the most beautiful, little white baby-doll dress. I thought, Where did she find all those?! But she can just zero in on something, too. That’s always been my dream, to have all those gorgeous white baby-doll dresses.

You have the best references season after season—who was the beachy surfer girl that you looked to for this collab?

We wanted to capture that true bohemian feeling of the ladies of Laurel Canyon: Joni Mitchell, Michelle Phillips, all those girls you put pictures on the wall and are like, “I hope I grow up and look like this.” So what we tried to capture was that dream.

I think fashion in general is really swinging toward the Anna Sui vibe, very bohemian.

It’s exciting. It’s kind of like a new beginning again. We’ve had so much reaction from all the stores and press—it’s like when I first started. It’s got that same feeling. It’s wonderful.

How do you define who your customer is and continue to change and grow with her over the years?

I think that somewhere I never grew up, and it’s still that same dream as when I was looking at the pictures of Michelle Phillips. It’s still always that same thing, and no matter where I go with the collection, Vikings or Pre-Raphaelites, there’s still that bohemian girl there. That was always my ideal. As much as I try to veer away from it, there are always a couple of those Michelle Phillips and Joni Mitchells in the collection. Through every collection you can find them.

So what’s the secret to staying young forever then?

I think loving what you do. You can’t ask for more. This is what I wanted to do since I was 4 years old, and just the fact that I’m able to do it and do it globally—I work in Japan and I work in Europe and I work in New York—it’s kind of a dream. It’s a lot of hard work and I’m very, very dedicated to it. I do a lot of sacrificing of other things, but it’s what I’ve always wanted.

As someone who’s been in the business for so long, how do you stay inspired and not get worn out or jaded?

One of the things that I love the most is research—learning new things and exploring new things. That’s what I do when I work on a collection: I find something that sparks my interest and then I’m obsessed with and I just go into it. It’s like going into the rabbit hole. Then all of a sudden you find out all these other things because one thing leads to another. Like when I did the Ballets Russes collection [Fall 2011], I saw that beautiful Diaghilev exhibit at the V&A; and I thought, OK, now I can be inspired by those Léon Bakst drawings. I remember one of the Ormsby Gore sisters was telling me that the way they started wearing vintage was because of a sale of the Ballets Russes costumes in, like, 1968. They couldn’t afford the principal costumes, but they could afford the costumes of the Sugar Plum Fairies, all these crushed velvets. So they started wearing them on the street, and all of a sudden the Beatles and the Stones and everybody else started following what they were doing. Well, don’t you know, in the Diaghilev exhibit, there was a film of that auction. I was just like, “Oh, my God.” That’s what sparked that whole thing where everyone was looking romantic and medieval. I love finding that connection. That makes my day—that makes my season when I find that out.

Do you feel like it’s harder or easier today to communicate that to your customer? I feel like with the pressures to make Instagrammable moments, it’s become very hard to get people excited about the history of fashion.

There are so many levels in what I do. Somebody like Tim [Blanks] will get the really intricate things, but then the obvious things will be the things that people talk about the most. I always try to bring it all back, make it current, and tie it in to something that’s happening in our pop culture, like the Viking thing. It’s really true—I was watching [the History channel TV series] and I got that idea. It wasn’t an intellectual idea, but that’s really how it happened. I think that you have to put it on different levels.

Is there one specific era or muse you feel like is the most Anna Sui?

My biggest idols are Anita Pallenberg and Keith Richards. So at the end of the day, it’s always like: Is there something that Anita would wear? Is there something that Keith would wear? Is it cool enough for them? And then I usually send Anita an image and say, “This is the outfit that I did for you.”Read more here:marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses

I don't usually do this (status updates instead of poetry) but I'm really in the mood to flex my creative muscles and share ideas and concepts with my fellow poets here on HP. I love collaborating. I would like to use kik or fb messenger since it an easier means of  communication for me. My kik is hottymelly25 and my facebook is Melanie Wilson (TGWLY).

Also, we have a thriving group of poets chatting together on kik. We're just a small group of poets who have met on here or on Poets Corner (another poetry app we like to use a lot) and we talk about life, poetry, what we made for breakfast, the importance of the decoy vaginas that ducks have to prevent **** and everything in between. It's quite entertaining and we're kinda like a family. If you're interested in joining us, just message me. :) 16+ only please.

Thank you for reading. ❤

I am seeking in life another body to help validate me;
To move my spirit from thinking that all I am is
This insignificant spec of dust floating in a vastly empty universe.
All I am asking for is someone with whom to exchange
Conversation, hopes, dreams, fears, woes, and comforts;
To exchange glances, gestures, touches, and ****** fluids;
So that my brain receives the chemicals it needs
To feel a sense of happiness, of purpose;
To give meaning to my existence through collaborating,
Overcoming the deathly gripping reality, the notion
Of feeling so small and insignificant;
So that I don’t have to dwell on the fact that all we are is
A spec of dust floating in a vastly empty universe,
Hoping our presence can be validated by the mutual exchange
Of conversation, hopes, dreams, fears, woes, and comforts;
Of glances, gestures, touches, and ****** fluids,
So that our brains receive the chemicals we need
To feel a sense of happiness, of purpose.

Is this what love is? Or simply the kindness of small persons
Helping to distract one another from our shared worthlessness?
What then is love? If not the gift of blindness to our cruel fate, lending
Some sense of meaning that we give ourselves in such hopes,
Then what instead? What greater gift could be received from another
Doomed human spirit than the ignorance to turn us from the coldest truth:
The acceptance of an existence void of purpose, justice, and answers?

For ***** sake, why the hell am I awake?
The clock strikes past twelve in many leaps and bounds.
I lay here with out a sound, desperately throwing my self at sleep.
Reasonably speaking, I'm being tormented by the secrets I am keeping.
Weaken the divide between sanity and my reality.
Exams in short time, all I can do is work out line after line.
Something in my soul is aching, fabric of gravity is breaking.
I'm floating away on my daydreams of peace and tranquility.
Listening for when it’s said you’ve lost that ability.
I just want to lose my mind in solitude, don’t be pained its not my intention to be rude.
So voices between my ears, expound no more fears.
It’s of small concern, every flaw you can discern.
Brain ill punish you, ill trip you and trick you, hold my breath until I'm blue.
Collaborating with my heart and spirit to break down walls we toiled hard to build.
No sleep for me.
My mind is filled.

For the past five seasons, the New York-based designer Rachel Comey has forgone a traditional runway show in favour of a more intimate dinner and presentation at the Pioneer Works Center for Art and Innovation in Red Hook, Brooklyn. This season, she is taking her show on the road, stepping off the New York calendar altogether. Instead, she plans to present her Autumn/Winter 2016 collection in Los Angeles in late March to support the launch of her first retail store on the West Coast, scheduled to open in April.

Located at 8432 Melrose Place, the store is the second physical retail presence in Comey’s portfolio; the first opened in June 2014 on Crosby Street in Manhattan, New York. Editors and buyers who wish to see the collection during New York Fashion Week will still be able to schedule private appointments and the designer also plans on releasing a look book of images prior to the show.

Comey is the latest of several brands — including Burberry,Tom Ford and Louis Vuitton — to stage activations in Southern California in the past year. (While Ford and Burberry did shows in Los Angeles-proper, Vuitton took to nearby Palm Springs.) On February 10, the Hollywood Palladium will host what might be Hedi Slimane's last men’s show for Saint Laurent. Indeed, Los Angeles’ emergence as a legitimate cultural capital and growing fashion hub has been well documented.

The exact date and location of Comey’s Los Angeles event has yet to be decided. But the designer said it would be similar in format and concept to the dinner theatre-style shows she has preferred as of late, with a live performance and a guest list filled with creative class types who reflect the brand’s point of view. (Notable Spring 2016 attendees included NPR reporter Jacki Lyden, actress Parker Posey, writer Zadie Smith and artist Cindy Sherman.) “I’ve been showing for a long time, but how many shows did Cathy Horyn come to before we started doing dinners. Maybe two over 13 years?” Comey said during a recent studio visit. “I get it. Shows are ten minutes and really what are you learning about the brand? The collaborative effort between the environment and the music and models and the chef feels very honest for us and what we are trying to do. It's something we really believe in."

There will be one significant change to Comey's unconventional presentation formula besides the location. Instead of simply showing pieces from Autumn/Winter 2016, the designer plans to incorporate current-season pieces into the line-up, which will be available to purchase the next day. The idea is to boost interest in the opening of the Los Angeles store, which will sit alongside The Row, Chloé, Isabel Marant, APC and several other high-fashion retailers on Melrose Place. “We want to use the show as a way to introduce ourselves and connect with people,” said Comey.

Architect Elizabeth Roberts and interior designer Charles de Lisle, both of whom worked on Comey’s New York store, are collaborating on the interiors of the 2,600-square foot space. Additionally, Los Angeles-based architect Linda Taalman has been brought onto the team to consult on the design.

Both the Los Angeles event and store opening reflect the quiet transformation of the Rachel Comey brand over the past three years, as the designer's intellectual, arts-and-crafts aesthetic has grown more popular with a broader audience in the United States and beyond. (Comey’s dropped-hem “Legion” jean, for instance, has driven denim trends for several seasons.) Her decision to shift her presentation format from a traditional runway show to a seated dinner elevated Comey’s cachet on the fashion week calendar, while the success of her New York store has helped to drive a significant evolution of the business. Direct retail — both the physical store and e-commerce — now makes up 27 percent of the company's nearly $10 million in annual sales. Roughly half the brand's sales are still generated by domestic wholesale partners, while the other quarter comes from Comey’s growing presence at international stockists.

“The [New York store] was such a game changer for us because of the connection to the customer,” she said. “I think people didn’t realise the breadth of the collection. When you’re a wholesaler, people cherry pick it however they want. Which is nice, I like that in a way. But it’s also nice to have our own store, our own space and do things the way we want to do it.”

Indeed, Comey, who has been designing womenswear under her namesake label since 2004, has found that her greatest successes have come out of staying true to her vision. “I now have the faith and confidence that if you do things that are meaningful to you — rather than stick to the industry standard — [things] will probably work out,” said the designer, who is also working on a revamp of her e-commerce site.

“We’ve never been championed by a celebrity or a powerful editor. It’s really always been by word of mouth, loyal customers and just keeping on.” Now, it’s time to test out that philosophy on the West Coast. As Comey put it, “California is the promise land.”Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses

Crick crack click clap snip snap on the concrete
The city is on the move and to stand would be
The slapstick comedy of stopping a treadmill.
Acceleration animation gravitation from the rotation
Apathetic friction that is devil-may-care like your heart
Dragged down on the gym floor and the sweaty men laugh.
Tick tock nonstop the clock hops and bops away the time
Of the day and eternity seems like a fairy tale
Because this era is neverneverland faith, we are young.
And getting younger, we plan to die naked as we came,
Lounging in retirement, the summer that knows no end.

But sighing the dying are crying relying upon our move
And we move past, this blur of momentum that the city has become,
Because stillness is for the hippies and the natives and we are neither.
Capitalistic colonial conquering captains of industry we charge
Credit or debit because it isn't ours anyways and the bank is moving.
Down the street in the heat can't beat the beat of the sweet treat
That the homeless remember the memory of the taste of mercy.
Like dogs in heat they pant and beg and we shake them off our pantleg
Because it is designer and the label buys manhood cheap and sells it high.

We split hit and quit and never commit because we spit words like blessing
Out when we wash our mouths out every night and every morning
Because it is the only way to get the taste out of your mouth when you wake up.
As if the jacket I wear can't clothe a man from the cold or sell for more
And my closet is lined with the clothes I don't remember to forget about wearing.
It is not hate that congregates or abates the rate the weight is pulling me down,
But fear of the immensity of impossibility colliding with reality inevitably,
Because one man's sacrifice will suffice to pay the price of my vice.

Yessir hearts are racing toward the first heart, we are collaborating.
That the dying need not remain the dead but know life to the fullest.
The poor and the sore need not abhor or war with the rush of the city.
Because saints and saviors are not just bedtime stories as long as my life
Has the power, no the will, no just the faith, all it needs is faith.
The sick have been tricked that their wick runs quick
Like crick crack click clack snip snap on the concrete
These hearts are moving this city on a hill.

Walking down the pier
I remember her playing
An instrument of love
Her melody notes
Kept tuning deep in my heart
Beyond the horizon
as the ships passes
Through the night
I imagine myself
Collaborating a song with her
Knowing jingle will be born
Now she is gone
As I lose her sound

Dream-walking I can explore opportunities
Collaborating and engaging in the process
Creating a synergy of thoughts and images
That may or may not stand the test
In the light of day
There’s comfort in dreaming of possibilities
Unblemished notions
Untried hypotheses
Perfect in their synthesis
My secret desires
They fill a need
Until the need is filled.

Kathy Charmaz suggests that if
Grounded Theory leaves me stuck,
I ought to add an "ing" to all the memos
Of all the field notes of the scratch notes of the observations,
and the transcribed notes of the interviews
That I took a half a year ago,
And so....

I'm creating a list,
Starting with A
Accepting (criticism)
Adapting (to change)
Attending (to lessons)
Attributing (blame)
Attributing (success)

Skipping B
Which seems all alone,
I move to the Cs,
With a heart of cold stone....

Caring (from teacher)
Changing (to learn)
Collaborating (in learning)
Comparing (with others)
Connecting (key concepts, and ideas to life)
Correcting (one's errors in deeds or in thoughts)
Conferencing (to see what the good doctor thinks)
(Guess the Cs are nice to look at in my despair),

And on toward Ds,
Those diffident dogs,
Dialoguing (in classrooms, in memos and calls)
Differentiating (myself from the pack)
Disrespecting (my feet up on somebody's desk)
Dominating....(discussion in class or the hall)
(Careful, Ds, talk it out or you're gonna fall).

Es are Encouraging (the work can be done),
Enjoying (the tasks, alone or with you)
Engaging the students, (not too much to ask)
Excelling (the sense of, and actually, too)
(My sense is that E is a place to be dwelling)

F is still Focusing (on the specifics)
Then jumping to G,
Goal-setting (so needed, and powerful, too)
Graduating (the goal, so I've heard, how 'bout you?)

Then H is for Humor,
Amusing for sure,

And on to the I
Interacting (dialogue is our guide)
Identifying (the needs and the shame and the pride)

J stands with K,
Both empty and alone,

L is for Learning (adjusting in change)

M is for Modeling (Bandura's so proud)

N stands for "none" at the moment,
But O is for Organizing, (homework and my thoughts)
And P is Participating, (profs like this a lot)
Paying forward, (so noble, and so seldom done)
Persisting, (not quitting, as losers have done)
And Plagiarizing (May God help us all)
Praying, (we live through the work set before us)
Prioritizing, and
Finally, Progressing (Can we sing all in chorus?)

Q's pretty quiet just now,
But R is for Reading, and
Reflecting, (like mirrors or a pond)
Resigning, (accepting) or consider this,
Risking (daring to risk)

While S, Lovely S is all about Self,
Self-advocating (students)
Self-assessing, (too)
Self-deprecating, (but not much)
Self disciplining, (cool)
Self-motivating, (how often?)
Self-regulating, (we all should do this)
And last, some Struggling proceeds
Before we find ourselves Succeeding.

T is Threatening, (a sense of foreboding)
Teaching, (is harder under a threat)
Transitioning, (moving on, before we all rust)
Trying, (not tempting, but taking a try)
Tutoring, (If you need it, don't cry)

And U
Is alone with the flu.

So is V (guess it's viral),
But W's Writing, (the goal in this study, of course)

And so far,
X, Y, and Z
Are still hiding, no Ings in their view,
And it's back to my coding,
After I get back from the loo.

so many people seem to be only limbo dancing...
fat-diagnosed                         meta-humans,
                   and juxta...
they the are scorn of a thousand
chinese labourers...
                      who later squirm...
    i forget what speaking english was about...
it's this carelessness
  that somehow surmounts the ideal practicality of it...
  it's somehow shadowy...
  somehow removed from all need to:
extract a core of struct cipher...
             long before the software makes
man his decrepit-self, there's
the metallurgy of the conclave...
                           and the is the minor statement:
if man is to breach a culprit worthy of being denoted:
a meteor.
                      prior to the hardware,
there needs to be a software insurgence...
                  a fail-safe mechanisation,
with us, imprinted as: beyond the death of god,
the death of sleep... and the capacity to dream...
                      nihilism revolves around retracting the
last ******* cursor...
                               all machinery rests,
it's a question of whether organic matter ever
    contradicts its inorganic humanisation...
             if i am bound to rest, then i bound to not
be woken from such a rest via a nightmare...
   erradicate nightmares, thus erradicate the organic
cursor bound to invoke...
  all other contradications that counter the
originally intent escapade...
                               if indeed $ is a symbol that is insomniac
when 1 - 9 symbols are used toward no signifying σ...
that there is no actual prefix in arranging a - z
as there already is, perfecting arranging the 0 - 9...
   with the σ being the more: well addressed... in being
                           what is the reigning smmation of
the symbols a - z, as the simply unknown cradle...
   so if the symbols 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 can be governed
by $...
            what number can govern
                               a, b, c, d, e, f... r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, z...
if not Ø?                   emtpy talk...
                       0 is a symbol for negation...
                  say of 0, Ø: you get affirmation..
  and you can say as much as you want...
        it doesn't mean you'll get the proper mediation
of being nearly human in the endeavour, a mediation
that demands: losers and winners, paupers and kings...
    man outlived the concept of letters and words
having any worthy construction...
    anything worthy of collaborating with...
                 there is no higher grownd with words and letters...
   it's the five-sense endorsement man that's
at a loss...
                    as long as
  there's the fewest numbers
                        to posit, once the
              hierarchy of 0 is stated after the comma...
and the number of crude denials are mustered...
  toward the million-shared among the 1% and not
the 0.1%...
                  once the Tolstoy's opus is worth:
0.0000000001 readership...
                      and a poem is 1.000000000's worth...
    we'll continue with this warfare of symbol...
       hierarchy:
               the one denied by the many: is the hierarchy...
and the one acknowledged by the many: is the monarchy...
   somehow it was worthwhile reading Kant,
given he suggested 0 = negation...
meaning that 1 = affirmation, but that was the least
   bother for me to attest...
                       i just found
    disavowing myself from the argument of god
as befitting man: who had no standard in a termite mount...
or an ant colony...
                         if man was indeed prone toward
such perfection, i'd have no concern to form a politics at all...
    man, as a political animal, as an animal non-intuitive,
as an animal overcome with conscience,
  has no place in man: guarded by such angelism...
  coinciding with duty and fakery: for the worth of prayer
and an albino amnesia.
and never prone to intuition and a synchronisation of the senses,
but rather their divergence... epitomised with
sharpening them in the sphere of intoxication...
        if man was indeed prone to such perfection,
    i'd have no concern from a politics at all...
  man, as a political anima, as an animal non-intuitive:
as anima ego-centra...
    could be neither a tangens or an omni-servitude
divergence of all the species, on the palette...
esp.  wondering if he could be:
  insect prone, rather than bedroom fuelled by mammalian
        jealous prods into: ******* gladiators!
                          religion only relapses into upkeeping
this utopian dream of it never happening...
   of a congregation...
                    imagine the Koran or the bible in China...
    common-sense numbers of China said: nope!
               the Chinese would have said: me mongol,
and slaughtered each other... for the bride to be!
  i really didn't want to write this for a reason that it might
be made dogmatic, or kept for posterity,
or a welcome inquiry...
                              i simply wonder why we dream
of world peace, and yet come up with such
diabolical schematics as Jung's collective unconscious...
    and all that: as if dreams really did require a 1 + 1 = 2
rules of interpretation...
    and all our dreams where: **** or phallus dreaming...
protruding in the oven of being flacid, once, so overcome with
thoughts, than in dream, or Buddha's awakening:
pretty correct in being: full blodied,
  stood up to overcoming shyness...
                                     and at least said: an astronaut's hello...
     ego to hyphen, non-complex word... complex
word to Houston... why wasn't it mission Hermes 13?
     i don't think we should believe in those gods...
but it would make great strides in asserting them
as best in a modern vocabulary...
                              Hermes overrules Apollo...
               there was a message intended in that vanity project,
surely!

The Ataman of the Cossacks
Or the "Father of the horsemen"
I imagine him to be a good man
Proud of his heritage
And leader of his people

The wealthier Cossacks
Fought for the White army
Some of the poorer ones
Fought for the Red army

During the Russian Civil War
Their territory was divided up
They were viewed
As a potential threat
To the new regime

During 1919 and 1920
The Bolshevik regime
Killed of deported
300,000 to 500.000 Cossacks

During World War II
Most fought for the Soviet Union

While others sought to
Settle old scores
By collaborating with the Germans

In keeping on track to make art more accessible, Isabella Huffington has a two-item collaboration with Designow and two upcoming exhibitions.

While her paintings can be “kind of intense, colorful, bright and a bit overwhelming,” she decided to translate a “very light one” called “Chrysanthemum” for the dress and scarf that will be sold on Designow’s site starting March 30. The artwork’s floral motif is actually a collage made of found objects like books and magazines. With clothing, you’re thinking about the consumer and you’re thinking about yourself, so it’s much more like an architect. You want to be authentic but it also has to look good on the person.” Huffington said of the $250 long-sleeve knee-length dress with a tapered waist. “You could wear it to a party but you could also wear it to work at 20 or at 40. I’m really interested in making art that has mass appeal.”

There is also a scarf with an artistic box that is geared for gift-giving or for a younger shopper who might not want to wear a dress. Huffington said of her fashion debut, “This is the first dip in the water but I’m definitely interested in pursuing this further. A lot of people don’t think they have interest in art or access to art so I love the idea of bringing art into the everyday.”

On April 28, Huffington will open an exhibition at Rebecca Minkoff’s gallery adjacent to the designer’s Melrose Avenue store. The artist has another show opening May 3 at Anastasia Photo on the Lower East Side of Manhattan about women and politics.

An admirer of Japanese artists Yayoi Kusama and Haruki Murakami, Huffington said a lot of Japanese artists, and American ones too, are collaborating outside of fine art so she’s looking to what they’re doing for cues. Even buying flowers in Japan calls for almost “artlike wrapping,” she said. “We’re almost missing that in the States because art is very much seen as something that is reserved for the elite. Even with Trump trying to cut [the National] Endowment for the Arts, it’s just not seen as a priority. But people who need art most almost don’t have access to it. I love being in a country where art is so much a part of the culture.”

Huffington said she has been really lucky to have her mother Arianna’s encouragement for years. “Since I’ve been a kid, she’s basically let me completely destroy my entire bedroom. I put paint on the walls and colored. At one point, I glued sponges so she really let me experiment. That really was my introduction to art,” Huffington said. “The best lesson my mom ever taught me, it’s especially [good] for my generation, was if something doesn’t work out it’s very easy for us to get discouraged. My mom basically said, ‘You have to knock on a lot of doors before things work out.’ So you just keep going. It’s like a task. A bunch of tiny things will lead to a big thing. It’s not one thing that changes everything. So you have to do a million different things before the right thing comes along.”

In other Designow news, the first Collective x Designow fashion show will be held April 2 with 28 students from FIT, the New School’s Parsons School of Design and Pratt Institute. The event at 526 West 26th Street is part of a competition.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses

I thought it might be fun to do and I enjoy collaborating with others when it comes to poetry. If anyone else enjoys this I would really love to write a poem with you!!

Please comment and message me if you are at all interested!

You say support for us is “collaborating with madness”
I must really be nothing to you
Someday I will wake you up
The alarm clock will not come with a snooze button
If you want to quiet me, you will have to throw the clock
Against the wall
Let it smash into a million pieces
But you will always hear a faint phantom ringing in your ears
It will grow louder
And louder
It will never truly be silenced.

You think I’m crazy
A queer little copycat
Let me let you in on a little secret
The world moves on, with or without you
I will move on, with or without you
I know that it is likely to be the latter
In a way, I almost want it to be
Black cannot become white without first having specks of grey
You are the deepest, darkest black of night
I am a myriad of colors

“Have I gone mad, Alice?
“I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But let me tell you a secret. All the best people are.”
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We’re all mad here.
Some of us just refuse to see
People hide behind their bibles
Yet speak of things that aren’t even written in them
Where does our God say, “Thou shalt not be transgender?”
You use the book as an excuse
As a shield for your bigotry
You may as well spit on the cover
Or light the pages ablaze with your disrespect.

Truth shall ever be contained in the mind
The decider, debater of life
Collaborating with the body's output
Allowing the face with lies and truth to bind.
But power is described among some
To deceive the ****** risks,
Extirpating all traces of truth to find.

Supermarket tripping
Nuts & Dried Fruits
the Ethnic Aisle
How do they get away with saying that?
perplexed
shoplifter shackled
on display, as if a warning
Seven Box Sale
of Broccoli Au Gratin Rice
Why seven?

"Pickled Beets Tormented"
an undiscovered Jackson *******
smashed glass and splattered pink
on speckled linoleum
with infused grime
from 1956

Art is splashing everywhere
large scale proportional
and messy little mix-ups

Rancor is now spreadable product
it's right next to the sarcasm
found in the Fear Aisle
feel the chills
frozen food fraternizing
with my canned goods

Was that flattery or flouting?
from Deli Counter
take three numbers from ticket dispenser
I pocket two
call for, "78"
"78 - 78"
"79 - 79 - 79, does someone have 79?"
I stay silent
"80 - 80 Is someone holding ticket 80?"

Chanel suited business woman
at my side
tapping stiletto
upper lip curled
eyes periscope about
She spots my ticket
blurting, "You have 80, Fella"
her index finger flickers
in time with toe tapping

My line: "Oh I thought that was 08"
there's a huge "HUFF"
as she wheelies cart away
Rudy, from behind counter, winks
We've been collaborating art for years

There is no lullaby or mattress that could mold me into such a sleep that laying on another provides. The soft rise and fall of their chest, perfectly collaborating with your own. The loud yet slow heartbeat reminds us that though this sleep feels like heaven, we have never been more alive. When the cold breeze chills the skin, there is a warmer sun beating down against my back, your chest, my neck, your cheeks. And we lay in the silence contently thinking that nothing had been, or could ever be, so simple and soft. That moment we never left. Weeks, months, years go on; but we lay there in that moment forever still, never moving or breaking the steady pace of our breath and beating hearts.

Does anyone have tips on collaborating with another writer on a piece?