thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com

The Paper Drumhead

A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Sunday, December 2, 2012. Poem - I Yelled. Wrote a poem. It takes after the others. I yelled at the world. So it may hate. Form in the coffer. Of my mouth but. Haughtily was my tongue. And I yelled at the world still. With a ribbon for the breadth. Of my sin so gilded in silver. To be valueless as any pound. Of flesh or paper which is just. As powerful to me as any skin. But these words are just clouds. Obfuscating the sun of my feelings. So now I'm hoarse.

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The Paper Drumhead | thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com Reviews

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A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Sunday, December 2, 2012. Poem - I Yelled. Wrote a poem. It takes after the others. I yelled at the world. So it may hate. Form in the coffer. Of my mouth but. Haughtily was my tongue. And I yelled at the world still. With a ribbon for the breadth. Of my sin so gilded in silver. To be valueless as any pound. Of flesh or paper which is just. As powerful to me as any skin. But these words are just clouds. Obfuscating the sun of my feelings. So now I'm hoarse.

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1 the paper drumhead

2 me so lone

3 in some maenad

4 thing where secrets

5 only bearing itself

6 patty

7 no comments

8 email this

9 blogthis

10 share to twitter

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The Paper Drumhead | thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com Reviews

https://thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com

A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Sunday, December 2, 2012. Poem - I Yelled. Wrote a poem. It takes after the others. I yelled at the world. So it may hate. Form in the coffer. Of my mouth but. Haughtily was my tongue. And I yelled at the world still. With a ribbon for the breadth. Of my sin so gilded in silver. To be valueless as any pound. Of flesh or paper which is just. As powerful to me as any skin. But these words are just clouds. Obfuscating the sun of my feelings. So now I'm hoarse.

INTERNAL PAGES

thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com

1

The Paper Drumhead: December 2012

http://thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com/2012_12_01_archive.html

A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Sunday, December 2, 2012. Poem - I Yelled. Wrote a poem. It takes after the others. I yelled at the world. So it may hate. Form in the coffer. Of my mouth but. Haughtily was my tongue. And I yelled at the world still. With a ribbon for the breadth. Of my sin so gilded in silver. To be valueless as any pound. Of flesh or paper which is just. As powerful to me as any skin. But these words are just clouds. Obfuscating the sun of my feelings. So now I'm hoarse.

2

The Paper Drumhead: November 2011

http://thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com/2011_11_01_archive.html

A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Wednesday, November 2, 2011. Life is shit and full of work I don't feel like doing anymore, but I'm happy. I don't know why. If my happiness had a face, I think, it would look like a simp. Probably. Anyway. Time feels too human, sitting next to me here,. Anywhere I am. A passenger moving between. Cars sits next to me, until gone, unnoticed. I would never have known if not for the sunlight. Moving between shutters of a peacoated body;. Of time, is he a soldier?

3

The Paper Drumhead: Poem - I Yelled

http://thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com/2012/12/poem-i-yelled.html

A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Sunday, December 2, 2012. Poem - I Yelled. Wrote a poem. It takes after the others. I yelled at the world. So it may hate. Form in the coffer. Of my mouth but. Haughtily was my tongue. And I yelled at the world still. With a ribbon for the breadth. Of my sin so gilded in silver. To be valueless as any pound. Of flesh or paper which is just. As powerful to me as any skin. But these words are just clouds. Obfuscating the sun of my feelings. So now I'm hoarse.

4

The Paper Drumhead: Homework Poem 1

http://thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com/2011/09/homework-poem-1.html

A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Saturday, September 10, 2011. At how they age,. The characters, they’re gray. By what by what—the rage! Or it’s just maybe they need. A good shake from the shoulder,. To dust off the snow of too much. They pass, from youth. And the news brought by sense. Look at how they age,. Labels: comment or die. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). I was less angry without a blog. Send me anything but spam at thepaperdrumhead@gmail.com. View my complete profile.

5

The Paper Drumhead: June 2011

http://thepaperdrumhead.blogspot.com/2011_06_01_archive.html

A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Friday, June 17, 2011. National Poetry Month: Day 15. 41511 amnesia / bad idea(s). If forgetting is fulsome. Then i don't want. At all the empty feeling;. There wasn't, let-. Filling itself from a. Faucet of bad ideas. That look suspect like. Breasts and the vacillation. Of long, straight hair. And booze so brown dripping,. On everything made damp. Least of all the expanse. Under the eyes). Come back. Memories walked away in slumber,. Links to this post.

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A here-and-there center for stuff of mine. Sunday, December 2, 2012. Poem - I Yelled. Wrote a poem. It takes after the others. I yelled at the world. So it may hate. Form in the coffer. Of my mouth but. Haughtily was my tongue. And I yelled at the world still. With a ribbon for the breadth. Of my sin so gilded in silver. To be valueless as any pound. Of flesh or paper which is just. As powerful to me as any skin. But these words are just clouds. Obfuscating the sun of my feelings. So now I'm hoarse.

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