Slow Hands
AnguishMaybe I'm just fishing for a small conversation with somebody anonymous that might relate.
I'm not really sure anymore...
~Blue-Bard
JordanNewest
Hymns of Self-ServiceHere on earth, some unrefined home, a loneliness keeps him tetheredHymns of Self-Service
like loose smoke against a vague ceiling; a hanged man inside his heart. The conversations gather around, each one adding substance to the cloud giving it body, some accumulated shape that defines its place; there it is, missing a certain etiquette: the formal touch of intimacy still formless and bound to spread thin against its own impermanence.
“This is life,” he cried out to the stars who’s reply will descend too late, only to be received by an echo of his tenancy.
A piano sounds out a chord, a solemn
by ~Blue-Bard
Directions for WayfarersThis is not simply a task of putting one foot in front of the other but of cataloging as well. Creating a record of stepsDirections for Wayfarers
so that one can reference a life in movements rather than still frames. Be sure to note the bracing dark spilling into the dawning diminutive daybreak window all aglow with pockets of street lamp flare. It’s here that we push ourselves to acknowledge the coterie of monsters and miscreants pacing the paved thoroughfare. Donating keystrokes to their fangs and furs various tints and textures each lending itself to a different menagerie: -this on
by ~Blue-Bard
And the Albatross Singswhen this is all said and doneAnd the Albatross Sings
we will be given a chance to unfold and gaze at our furrowed and worn faces touching everything with the palms of our eyes- your taupe measuring itself to match sticks broken glass and the likes of so many scarred returns. Yes, we were indeed rich; -I drank you in like wine spilt you on my breast
and poured more onto the kitchen floor while fumbling for another bottle.
-I drew you in like smoke sifted thoroughly with teeth and sighs
now face to leathery face
you showed me the w
by ~Blue-Bard
Endings: Part IIII. Take this out of our hands with the respect you would give a fly. Take this and what ever else you can find unturned and ignored, and tie a string around them so their collective existence can be something more than cumbersome.Endings: Part II
Take this dream down from its affluence, out of its heart shaped box. Take this hand and place the palm against your chest
touch your clock, your door chime, your chimney because this is the only house you’ll know -there’s no more coming home-
Take this beer battered nose, this liver wrung dry, with co
by ~Blue-Bard
Random Favourites
Devious Info
- Current Residence: San Angelo, Tx
- Interests: Music, Writing, and Various Extra Curricular Activities
- Favourite movie: The Chumscrubber
- Favourite band or musician: Beck
- Favourite genre of music: Anything but country
- Favourite artist: Bill Waterson
- Favourite poet or writer: Pablo Neruda
- Skin of choice: My own brown pelt
- Favourite game: Dead Space
- Favourite gaming platform: Nintendo (the old gray box)
- Favourite cartoon character: Ren Hoek
- Personal Quote: There will always be time, as long as you don't rely on it.
- Tools of the Trade: Enough experience, paper, napkins, wrappers, receipts, and pens to write with/ of.
- Email: brotherodelay@gmail.com
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xo!
--
I am a poetry admin for *DailyLitDeviations.
interested in collaborating?
writer, photographer, painter, whatever(er) -
I'll mix with words with anything you've got.
--
Hey look there's Booby Bunny!
-Baby Cakes
--
002110 Goto 013500
013500 Peek 16388, 236
013510 Poke 16389, 346
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They can take my voice when they pry it from my cold, dead throat.
Stop by and check out my Angry Hippie's Blog and Podcast [link]
Or WHATSABUDGET Films on youtube [link]
*Apophysis
xo!
--
I am a poetry admin for *DailyLitDeviations.
interested in collaborating?
writer, photographer, painter, whatever(er) -
I'll mix with words with anything you've got.
--
002110 Goto 013500
013500 Peek 16388, 236
013510 Poke 16389, 346
--
Hey look there's Booby Bunny!
-Baby Cakes
we're in need of your words, your works,
and that hand that wrote,
upon us smote
some sad despair in your passing.
--
002110 Goto 013500
013500 Peek 16388, 236
013510 Poke 16389, 346
--
Hey look there's Booby Bunny!
-Baby Cakes
and yet we, the congregation
rejoice at your revival.
--
002110 Goto 013500
013500 Peek 16388, 236
013510 Poke 16389, 346
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