Toxic Rambles
Author | Message |
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Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Writing is a hobby to me, and I do it often, but please give me your constructive criticism (the operative word being "constructive". I'd love to hear what you think or if you have any questions about my work. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | synesthesia taste my colors on your tongue can’t you see my stripes of silver or my blush of purpled crimson popping like a bubble when i grasp the prism of your name? your eyes are my favored flavor tart like swiftly shattered glass through the sky like fireworks i see your voice- violent spires like curved corners with you i shine like redwoods i want to sing a roadmap or paint your concerto come, smell my smile. lounge in the cucumber warmth of my fireside and i will tell you what your name tastes like. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Progress: I. The pits of stone fruit like petrified Next to the discarded baskets and shovels Left by workers who dropped them there And filed away Like a column of dusty soldier ants Haggard towards the dying sunset pooling Over smoggy mountain crests Quivering at the bottom, in the valley of sun Valley of dirt Briefly shining a sanguine spotlight on Ribs of dead grapevines and skeleton trees Comatose in the shadow of a neon city And its twisted metal trees. II. In the city of lights the tarmac lies trampled And worn under the drone footfall of Mighty machines and heavier egos. For all the xenon exist far more shadows For all the personality there is no character Artificial suns pale the day to the night Bath the stars in pollution curtains We forget they ever existed See how we conquered the earth! See our lights and our pleasure! See the power of the ultimate animal Squatting in their high-rise squalor Dimly muttering at the hazy stripe Just visible through the bars What is it like to walk through grass? What is it like, the sun? |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Familiar There are Knotty roping snakes Crawling under my fingers Over my shoulders Shiny and taut Buckled Warped They tell more of my past Than I can remember Some fade And blur While a few opalesce Others see in them violence But I consider them old Friends. They are markers of my progress And roadmaps of my past They make me feel so lonely And so loved They slither softly and They speak Reminding me of who I am And why There are letters from forever Written on my skin Indelible on my thighs Rainbows of flesh Soft and hardedged Each one a message To me from the past Some undulate And flex While others hinder movement Others feel for them pity But I consider them Old friends. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | The Entertainer Ten clumsy soldiers battle fiercely Dueling squat, white foes on thin, black steeds When struck The enemy speaks springs back As though the blow was never landed However The soldiers are easily discourages And when stubbed Falter out of rhythm Angrily bounding over the field And breaking formation Forever at an impasse with their faceless foes. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Biologyography Give me a pen I become a syringe Suck up my essence and centrifuge Subterfuge I type out my tongue On the slide I am cell Magnify brainwaves and extricate Annotate Read from my palmprints What follicles tell |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | January Linoleum L O V E. That consonantvowelconsonantvowel four-letter repeat l e Of high-school graffiti that f i s through the air on Every breath and tongue O v e r u s e d so as to slip through your fists and get tramp-led into the muddy linoleum footprints made of January snow. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Mama Tried The man was just released from prison Riding the Greyhound to civilization He stared straight ahead in forced concentration His shorn head shone in the lights of the station On the skin of his throat were the words “Mama Tried” He was covered in scars from when he should have died And when the overhead lights all were turned out, he cried Cried in the dark, on the bus, in the station Riding the Greyhound to civilization |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | He presses his lips to The bellies of my wrists (seed-row p l a n t e d-the crop of despair) moonskin/lit/glows and I blossom the fallow can hide such wild beauty only to lather the ditches away with the gentle pressure of the promise of a kiss or maybe just a word (simple steam u t t e r e d-secret thoughts embodied) shy eyes/wonder/glitter and I smile the clouds can mask what would be truth only to be blown away on the breath of a tiny gentle sigh |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Playing God Beautiful? Yes, beautiful I may be But the wolves see not my blue eyes but my rich blood pumping under my skin. And they can only wait to taste- They can rip out my heart with their red deathred nails -manicured catholic claws- Beautiful? How is beauty defined in a mind with no eyes? How is it seen in a pitch-black room? Oh you would HailMaryOurFather your way into a holy existence by burning the sinners at the stake of your piety. The love of your Jesus- your bleeding Christ- the one you say will forgive me if I repent of my sins-will it be enough to save you? Is mindless martyrdom a mindful murder? Take back your hypocrite rosaries your candles make me ill. Save your riot of redemption for an unblessed moment and maybe your god will unlock the secret of your fate or maybe the eternal punishment for playing God with mankind. Who will walk on your still waters now that they are the rapids of your conceit? Write me a scripture fating the unjust to the stake- my love will light the flames as your choir robes burn- summon your saints to save you Now. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Bare. You would think that it would look Unnatural For a woman to have to no hair. But She had never looked more beautiful than the first day I saw her With nothing to cover her face but A smile A pair of black lace hoop earrings And the pattern of the sun On her bare scalp. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Doubt. You say you only jot down your thoughts I think you a poet The Louvre can’t compare with the ramblings in t he margin of your notebook But in your eyes you only track dust on the lines Every word you speak is music In every flutter of your fingers, nervous things, I see a seamless, graceful waltz And yet No matter how I gaze at your shadow and see a sunrise You will be forever finding fault with the miracle of your mind |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | You I asked why you loved me And you said -I just love You Pretty, but a lie You only love me because I Have darkly shining hair And your hand fits under my ribs Just so But If I scrubbed off my makeup- If I scrubbed off my skin- If you saw what my ludicrous Expensive clothes and cocoon Of bottled scent are meant to hide Would you still love me Would you even recognize me Or is it only this mask that I mold Onto my jaw and my eyes every day That you’ve convinced yourself you love? Now that I think about it Do I really, really love You Or, instead Do I love your aura of pretentious calm And your impressive stature And the way your football jersey clings Just so SoDo I love your heart or Do I just love what you Do to mine when You say to me So sweetly and distracting When you say -I just love You |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Victorian Bus Stop A :Do you recall the evening that we met? B :Your blush drove out the pallor of the rain A :That splattered on your dripping skeins of jet B :And caused the silver moon appear to wane C :We stood under the pouring monsoon skies D :Though either could have sheltered in the stores C :Both too shy to meet each other’s eyes D :Through the mist of steam from cautious pores E :I offered you the use of parasol F :Though it had not been opened in my hand E :Instead you pulled me closer to the wall F :Where there was room for both of us to stand G :Hence we waited for a coach to hire G:When you had let yours leave an hour prior |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Blood. I used to be frightened of Blood Childhood accidents produced plenty But I never grew accustomed to the sight of Blood I would get queasy, panicked Running for a bandage Or an ambulance At the merest glimpse of Blood But then I got sick Majorly, for the first time And the doctors wanted to take my Blood Away from me Sucked up through tubes and collected To be analyzed It felt odd to me, to have my Blood -That hot nectar giving me life Invisibly sustaining me- Analyzed like milk at a dairy show Over and over again They stabbed me and drained me Like mosquitoes, hungry for more I felt as if I would run out of Blood And the sight of it no longer nauseated me I found it distantly interesting Like watching waves break the ocean The blue foam of an enormous meringue being folded over I actually like the smell of Blood Not quite rusty, not a salt A hot smell Comforting And when I got home from the hospital Full of track marks like an addict I imagined my veins collapsing Emptied I wanted to see it again, my Blood An immature, if morbid, curiosity |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Take. How can I die when I haven't figured how to live? I've been wasting this body Thisheart Thismind on longborrowed time Can I give it back? just take it, take it I don't need to squander this gift any more than it was mind to give please take it, take it give it to someone who will use it well see what they can make of it I don't need it any more so take it. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Radio Heart. My song Tumbles from lips and Beats in pores Not enough to hear alone One heartbeat on it's own But with you I hear you sing Your simple supple melody My song played back at me But better Clear bright beautiful Noise When you come closer Joyful proximity Your body sings to me Our songs as one the perfect sound Pouring from your radio heart Tuned to your brainwaves The only music I'll ever need to hear again Noise constellations Showing me where I've been |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Asthma Season. I hate seeing fat, sleek fish pulled up on hooks their fins flashing gills flapping I hate watching them hang from a line Because I know what it feels like To drown in air |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | Falling Short. I loved her from a distance because that was the only way I could love her But oh, how I loved. Selfish obsession, those hours- spent imagining movie theaters and sweaty palms, playing acoustic to lyrics of her All time well spent. But eventually I no longer found myself in love with her I was intoxicated by the idea of her And so when the time came for the mask to shatter and the veil to shred –find out who she really was—surprise![You were hiding not for your love but from love this entire debacle] She fell far short of the perfect being I had painted in my imagination And I let her go Because it dawned on me that it was not she But my own mind Whom I loved. |
Rorschach Test Jazz Hands Age: 30 Gender: Female Posts: 351 | That Kind of Perfect. You speak a lot About love, don't you? If I asked you what love is, You would paint me a portrait of Abercrombie abs and a chemical smile Your poster-boy pick-me-up basketball star Who takes you to movies and fastfood you won't eat So you can fit into the strip mall lingerie that he gave you The day after your birthday, too small in the waist, big in the bust Wouldn't you? Well, you can forget What you think you know About love. Perfection is gangly Size-twelves and rumpled denim hand- Me-downs, on the wind of an inky smudged Letter written on the back of a history paper in His best print, and the song he wrote for my birthday Paired with his God-awful guitar playing and the peanut- Butter sandwiches he made me to take to the park behind my House to tear the crusts off and throw to the ducks that he knows By name |
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