atriptothemindofthemadgirl.blogspot.com
Mad Girl's Love Song
http://atriptothemindofthemadgirl.blogspot.com/2008/12/hes-man-of-rivers-and-you-can-see-it-in.html
Mad Girl's Love Song. People said she was mad. She said "of course not! But when she fell on her face in love, all her mad rants became her song. Monday, December 15, 2008. He’s a man of the rivers. And you can see it in his eyes. He’ll look at you nice and plain. And take off his hat and bow. But when on a full moon-drunk night,. You are looking for the moon. In his deep set blue eyes,. And you are not too careful. He’ll lift the flimsy scrim. And drown you full and well. In the calmly flowing river.
atriptothemindofthemadgirl.blogspot.com
Mad Girl's Love Song: December 2008
http://atriptothemindofthemadgirl.blogspot.com/2008_12_01_archive.html
Mad Girl's Love Song. People said she was mad. She said "of course not! But when she fell on her face in love, all her mad rants became her song. Monday, December 15, 2008. He’s a man of the rivers. And you can see it in his eyes. He’ll look at you nice and plain. And take off his hat and bow. But when on a full moon-drunk night,. You are looking for the moon. In his deep set blue eyes,. And you are not too careful. He’ll lift the flimsy scrim. And drown you full and well. In the calmly flowing river.
ramblinginc.blogspot.com
Digressive Monologues: November 2011
http://ramblinginc.blogspot.com/2011_11_01_archive.html
Monday, November 21, 2011. Beneath the fiery glance. A trail of gentleness,. Time gently ruffles your. Conviction of my yet un-. Fulfilled role as your first. Violator, your standard of. Insincerity, your (secret). Within these gaps I. Flow, these moral slippages,. The obscure realm between. Vision and desire,. Quietly invading suspicion,. For I am formless yet, inhaled. By you as you resist. My finger on your eyes now,. My voice in your head. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.
ramblinginc.blogspot.com
Digressive Monologues: a new story
http://ramblinginc.blogspot.com/2011/03/new-story.html
Thursday, March 3, 2011. Children streaming in, joyful and joyless, bags tied to backs. taking their seats, quietly and noisily, waiting for authority to address their curiosity. one, two, three, four. the seconds pass, the minutes fly, the hours inflame their impatience. they are, of course, not sitting anymore. You play games. Come back already. June 24, 2011 at 10:39 AM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Keeper Of The Stars. Momentary Lapse Of Reason.
luciddarkness.blogspot.com
Through the eye of a storm...: Meetings and Partings
http://luciddarkness.blogspot.com/2015/04/meetings-and-partings.html
Through the eye of a storm. My insane rambling, which borders greatly on the neurotic on more than one occasion. Monday, 27 April 2015. We meet and we part. Then we part and we meet,. Our distance numbing much of the heart. Frozen tears get thawed by smiles that greet. When we meet, then part. Only to part and meet. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Keep the Blues Away. A Story A Day. 9834;] tuneful void. Off my Journal (the wine and the divine). Grandma Take Me Home.".
luciddarkness.blogspot.com
Through the eye of a storm...: April 2015
http://luciddarkness.blogspot.com/2015_04_01_archive.html
Through the eye of a storm. My insane rambling, which borders greatly on the neurotic on more than one occasion. Monday, 27 April 2015. We meet and we part. Then we part and we meet,. Our distance numbing much of the heart. Frozen tears get thawed by smiles that greet. When we meet, then part. Only to part and meet. Thursday, 9 April 2015. Keep the Blues Away. If you could have a heart for every summer you survive. Where sunny days seep into your smiles. They'll keep the blues away, oh oh. A Story A Day.
thescalpfriction.blogspot.com
The Scalp Friction: She and Me
http://thescalpfriction.blogspot.com/2008/11/she-and-me.html
CLICK HERE FOR BLOGGER TEMPLATES. Sunday, November 23, 2008. She sits and tries to think. Days of lost innocence and all that pink. Trying frantically to remember all that she has forgotten. She lost me in the flood of oblivion. She is just another survivor. And as she walks back she crosses me. And she doesn't even recognize who I was. I nod my head and follow her. I see her like I see everyday. I see her just like the clouds in the sky or the moon in the night. I see her walking. Going back to her house.
parjanyasen.blogspot.com
Palimpsests: June 2014
http://parjanyasen.blogspot.com/2014_06_01_archive.html
Saturday, June 7, 2014. Song of the Banshee. As the moon rose within her womb. She covered her face. Tears that could give birth. To babies with ten heads—. Clutched in each paw. A wail arose from her self. A lullaby that had once put. Many would join,. They would sing and rejoice—. A chorus of sirens,. Each with an unborn baby. The babies have grown up—. Men with innocent stubbles. They have fallen silent—. Afraid of the melody,. Teeming with the coldness of memory. And the warmth of abandon.
thescalpfriction.blogspot.com
The Scalp Friction: November 2008
http://thescalpfriction.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html
CLICK HERE FOR BLOGGER TEMPLATES. Sunday, November 30, 2008. I:The fact resides between your and my heart. The fact that I am incapable of further probing deeper into your heart is a fault of mine and I alone take the blame. But that doesn't mean my love for you is less. You: If you can't read my heart then what's the use of your love. I: But I tried. You: And was that try good enough? I:Will you give me another chance? You: It depends on how good your try will be. I: I can't promise you anything. I can'...
