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piningwoodland | A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul.A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul.
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A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul.
http://piningforest.wordpress.com/
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piningwoodland | A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul. | piningforest.wordpress.com Reviews
https://piningforest.wordpress.com
A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul.
piningforest.wordpress.com
Romancing the Termite | piningwoodland
https://piningforest.wordpress.com/2016/09/11/romancing-the-termite
A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul. Dance with me dear termite. Scurry closer sprightly toxin. And toxins can skip. Through the illusion laced. Leaves and chattering pavement. Weaving through the existential dirt. Rest your head on the moon between. Ancient vermin you industrious bastard. Ancient lover you monstrous queen. Of the earthly toxins far and in between. When you lived on that dear old sphinx. Toxins in the timeworn sands. With the sun on your back. And transcending to me.
To The Last Millimetre | piningwoodland
https://piningforest.wordpress.com/2015/08/10/to-the-last-millimetre
A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul. To The Last Millimetre. Crackling in each ear. And crawling in each eye. I stared at the the travelling grey. At those stretched clouds. My senses following and wondered. The white wand walked to your lips. Your lips were always in charge. Pulling with no physical force. A rope that pulled from the sky. A force that climbed from the core. Cushioned on the pink pillows. I sat in awe and wondered. Ready for your magic. You request of a fire.
I Pluto and You Neptune | piningwoodland
https://piningforest.wordpress.com/2016/08/24/i-pluto-and-you-neptune
A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul. I Pluto and You Neptune. Simmering in the background Pluto resides. He is so far away and slow moving. With distance comes great vision. He sees Neptune in the way. She is in everything. Spreading herself through the universe. In soft gentle blues and fairy dust. And he lacking colour and smiling in grey. In a way that makes him come closer. Orbiting her at a small distance. With specks of her colour on his hands. She sees him getting closer.
Relic of the Senses | piningwoodland
https://piningforest.wordpress.com/2016/12/28/relic-of-the-senses
A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul. Relic of the Senses. Velvet ruffles and its silent sound. Its loud but I can not hear anything. Why is it I can feel you. As if it isn’t you. Are you a red panda? Or even a racoon? It is like you are all. And the oak tree. A concentrated earth potion. I am a beast in your air. I am an ape away. I hop and I run and there it stays. Within my cruel nose hair. The sweat of you. 2016 me does not know. Does not caress the human racoon. With notes of you.
Hidden Treason | piningwoodland
https://piningforest.wordpress.com/2014/10/06/hidden-treason
A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul. There it lay at the bottom of her head. Here it will stay in the forever mourning red. An orchestra of an infinite spectrum of colour. Dancing without purpose and kneeling with power. She the spectrum toyed with reason. Smiling from the wrong side. There fell out the hidden treason. October 6, 2014. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public).
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plateau. – sheila sea
https://sheilaseapoetry.wordpress.com/2015/01/26/plateau
January 26, 2015. January 27, 2015. I suppose I could settle. I suppose I could stop. The way I often do. I suppose I could hold myself. Murmuring my own highs to sleep. I suppose I flit around. And rummage too deep. I could loosen the grip. And bury myself in. Or teeter on a steep. I suppose I could even strip. All the matted and wild. And lend myself to query. I suppose I could. But the dusk is set. And my lightness is so bereft. Of you and of could. That it is sudden and clear. A loved and a loved.
30 Day Writing Challenge | Day 23 – Adventures of Lexie
https://adventuresoflexie.com/2015/06/23/30-day-writing-challenge-day-23
30 Day Writing Challenge Day 23. 30 Day Writing Challenge Day 23. June 23, 2015. June 24, 2015. Day 23: Write a letter to someone, anyone. Dear Future Husband,. Wonderful I hope. I haven’t met you yet, but I hope I do someday soon. Are you the prince charming I dreamt of as a child? Are you Matthew Gray Gubler? Is that where you are from? Do you love your family? Are you a cat person or a dog person? Did you let me have the nerdy wedding of my dreams? Was it the wedding of your dreams as well? 17 thought...
rehearsal. | Wallflower Whimsy
https://wallflowerwhimsy.com/2015/01/27/rehearsal
Words from the introverse. January 27, 2015. Flower of Life, by Frida Kahlo. I saw the coffin,. I knew her fate. The sun and moon’s. She lay in satin,. Time all around us. From young roots,. Left to wither on. Withered and grew,. She’d always be there. Withering and growing,. Smiling a kind of smile. Always a step ahead,. In the quiet night. Of a barren garden.). And die young,. Than time –. Stars into being,. Silver and gold,. Pain is a flower. Pain is flowers. Blooming all the time. – Bukowski. There a...
cosmic run on. | Wallflower Whimsy
https://wallflowerwhimsy.com/2015/02/11/cosmic-run-on-2
Words from the introverse. February 11, 2015. Cosmic Love, by Phillip Schumacher. Rage and tender touch,. Of space and the. Absence of matter,. Of ions forgetting charges. And mass not knowing. Its how and why,. What once was,. What could be,. What could have been. Of parallel options,). The fabric of poetry. To a life we. Inspired by “If A Sunsets Behind Buildings and No One Can See It, Is it Still Beautiful? 8221; By Vagabond at https:/ writtenmad.wordpress.com. Posted in love and loss. February 12, 20...
carefully chosen notes. | Wallflower Whimsy
https://wallflowerwhimsy.com/2015/02/24/carefully-chosen-notes
Words from the introverse. February 24, 2015. Surreal Birds, by Alexandria Baker. As day rolls into night. And night into day,. Sings his lilting song. Of secret, sacred notes. Frozen twilight skies,. Each note is a. Of what once was. And again will be,. Inspiring a breathy answer. For the beating hearts. Of everyone awake to hear:. 8220;Soon, sweet sparrow. Soon.”. Would the sparrow travel. If he knew how closely. Just through the fabric. Of here and now,. A short trip to. Seek this eternal paradise.
Silent Bell | chrisnelson61
https://chrisnelson61.wordpress.com/2015/08/16/silent-bell
Poetry, stories and some random words…. Asymp; 19 Comments. The sage bell pealed like a blood orange. Spilled its flesh and soul. Like a swollen river. Whose banks have grown weary of emotion. Worn tired of holding back the waters. And cried its plaintive song to the evening air. Tangled man and woman and child. Carried low on destiny’s blackened wing. Strode to its beat. Like a nomad herd in search of water. Bending heads in wishful anticipation. Rain-soaked reeds their ears brushed by the swell. Thank ...
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ma vie n'est pas une comédie romantique*
Ma vie n'est pas une comédie romantique*. Bir zamanlar hasretle "ay"ı beklerdi. Şimdi ise sadece yazıyor. Evet ağlamaklı oluyorum demdir bu. Gene bir cehennem var yastığımda. Thank-you mr. williams. Mutsuzlukdan söz etmek istiyorum. Dikey ve yatay mutsuzluktan. Mükemmel mutsuzluğundan insansoyunun. Biz giz dolu bir şey yaşadık. Onlarda orada yaşadılar. Bir dağın çarpıklığını. Bir sevinç sanarak. En başta mutsuzluk elbet. Kahkahası gün ışığına vurup da. Ouml;teden beri yansımayan. Sontag, S. (1969)...
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Fruit just don't feel like I do
Fruit just dont feel like I do. Dec 21st, 2007 05:03 pm. So it has been far, far too long and right now really isn't the best time to be procrastinating in way of an emotional outpouring, but somehow it just seems like the right time. Often I've thought I should try to write in here more often, particularly whenever I feel an enormous build-up of nervous energy that I don't feel anybody really deserves to be the victim of. Jul 8th, 2007 05:05 pm. Jun 26th, 2007 09:32 pm. It was that last kiss that did it.
piningapples (Amy) - DeviantArt
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piningwoodland | A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul.
A melancholic heart, a wandering mind and a curious soul. To The Last Millimetre. Crackling in each ear. And crawling in each eye. I stared at the the travelling grey. At those stretched clouds. My senses following and wondered. The white wand walked to your lips. Your lips were always in charge. Pulling with no physical force. A rope that pulled from the sky. A force that climbed from the core. Cushioned on the pink pillows. I sat in awe and wondered. Ready for your magic. You request of a fire. For you...
piningforitaly | Just another WordPress.com site
Just another WordPress.com site. Life’s a sandwich. May 8, 2013. Words and food are both oral obsessions . . . Originally posted on piningforitaly. Peaches, nectarines, cherries, apricots could all disappoint, but were somehow always forgiven. Except in plum jam or Chinese plum sauce, I held all plums in suspicion and usually passed over them in the fruit market for their more favoured relatives. But this year all that changed. Was it me? Or was it an especially auspicious year for plums? May 8, 2013.
Pining for Nordstrom
A Materialist Misplaced in a Nordstrom-less Town. Friday, June 12, 2015. Come-To-Jesus Summer - and Introducing Francie. Do you know any atheists? Want to hasten their conversion? Just send 'em all to my house, because there have been oodles of pounds of divine intervention around here lately. Exhibit A: yesterday my son emerged from the yard with this ugly beast:. He fell onto a stake in the ground while playing soccer with the brothers, and somehow the stake scraped him long instead of deep. So now tha...
Pining for Pixels -
It's about the journey, not the task. Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!
Hilary Clark ~ Pining for Poetry | My poetry inspires my quilts
Hilary Clark Pining for Poetry. My poetry inspires my quilts. Hilary Clark and “Pining for Poetry”, 2009-2016. Red, raw strips from the. Weeps, laid bare. Pain will not allow. One only comes out the. Facing down the fire. C) Hilary Clark 2/4/18. See the art here. Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window). Share on Facebook (Opens in new window). Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window). Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window). Click to email (Opens in new window). February 10, 2018.
piningforsubstance.wordpress.com
Pining For... Substance | Delightfully Maladjusted
Pining For… Substance. Charmed, I’m sure…not. Just once, for just one teensy nano second I would like to know what living a charmed life feels like. I have reduced my entire life down to 10 boxes, 1 car and the contents therein. And really, I have no job, no home…seemingly no future (at least not one that I want). So now what? Posted in College and Jobs. Technology I hate You Today and Some Interview Tips for Newbies. Technology I hate You Today and Some Interview Tips for Newbies. 2 I didn’t prepa...
