let's try a different sort of participation thread.... somebody shoots three words, somebody picks them up and writes a piece incorporating those three. and then drops off three more words for the next person.
no one else could nourish her; like placenta for an unborn, he fed her, kept her heart plump. they shared old memories, broken bones and sweet lies. his jade eyes see directly through her. there is no better moment than the now they often live in. her golden smile is graced by his lips, the taste of kool-aid fills her.
sophiticated words tied up in bundles pressed flat in black and stacked like oblong tunnels sound funnels through out time through the eye of an needle it permeate through people's minds
contrast expect blaspheme
R.I.P. Martin alexander (Marty Gra) Alston - my brother, my mentor , my friend-
4. "High contrast papers" In response to Reply # 3
I used to print on high-contrast paper the old negatives left by my uncle the ones that so embarass his mother still that I expect her to raise her head from the pillow with titanic shame but all we hear over the wires is the hard contrast of white, white on white and every time I see that pale skinned girl I think Loving and blaspheming are never too far from each other we swim in the ecstasy out-reaching toward fire and the wrenching-insides nights not-sleeping not-eating and expecting you will in time contrast me again, even in other arms you will say I am no longer at arms, stand down, burn the launch codes wage the peace.
My three: metastasis crass hint
------------------------------ Something like Eldridge Cleaver meets John Lennon
5. "generation gap" In response to Reply # 4 Mon Jul-31-06 05:54 PM by roobug
Her words bit threw me and stung worse than shampoo in my eyes. My hate spread like metastasis, a disease from one part of my body to the next until my whole being was absorbed with a seeding disgust for everything that she was and everything I had not been. We stood for a moment, caught in this limbo that transcended time and all elements of space. There was a hint of irony in the air because her crass attitude was a reflection of my own. A mirror image staring back at me, daring me to challenge what she stood for because it was in fact my training that had formed those beliefs and her attitude. In reality, it was my disgust that had created her own.
In his younger years, when he dwelt among the old parchments and the new books and arguments and late night cups of coffee and spilt ink in quanities to rival the blood spilt in the streets
She loved the man who would spe dthe plow and broke the earth, she hated the scholar and loved the farmboy. And she left him.
In his older years, when frequency had broken him and he walked the quiet lanes of the farm with his gun and his dog, it was the scholar she would have loved, stationed for play and held.
SHe never came back. ------------------------------ Something like Eldridge Cleaver meets John Lennon
I wanna go to the bronx,america,all over, but my parents refuse to even let me go see hova, sayin your too young,but i aint too young to get done, its sad coz they fail, to realise im getin older,i even get my own mail.
3 words: Lithium, Onomatopoeia, Aknowledge.
Intoxication, my voicebox rocks the nation Sweet affiliation, the Doe Or Die situation - Az
your ship's run aground and in the blanket of night a fissure arose your ship filled like a well and the onomatopeiac whoosh of wetness was soon drowned in gulps
i awakened to a sound of lithium on my breath and sandstone in my throat and extraterrestrial signposts kept me from running in circles sometimes when i used to close eyes and i saw with my hands
we sometimes forget to acknowledge the wisdom of hands and eyes and the forgetfulness of sound i drowned i plummeted and tasted the twisted metal of sadness again.
12. "The Nation of Two" In response to Reply # 11 Fri Aug-04-06 05:57 PM by rubbersoulonice
when the reich fell in pieces at Union Station only two and the crackheads saw you the woman cried in the drivers seat and he stepped into the train no one saw even the two that autonomy had been seeded to a host of allies when the reich fell in pieces amid silent-film carpet bombings and the parliament burned that had been a farce for - decades
now amid all the bric-abrac of White Christmas Bing Crosby military blankets the white supremacist tracts litter the cracks and the Revolutionary Weekly laughter in this the hold-house of one man's destitution she sends back the crowns all covered in secret poison - no modesty Krupp's arms go up in smoke and Das Reich der Zwei holds only one adunatos
unable even to find new flesh for old rituals he is secretly in love with the pale pierced woman and watches her scripted tattoo recede down the hall every after noon and the ghost of the paler woman whose heart he could see beat through her skin cries out at Union Station still and sends back all the envenomed gifts and every night the great masturbating edifice burns amid the carpet bombs' reminiscence.
three more: skinny milk butch
If I'm having too much fun on this post, someone tell me and I'll shut up. ------------------------------ Something like Eldridge Cleaver meets John Lennon
there was this girl i knew, her body made me randy never saw her as a full meal, just wanted her as candy never got to know her, soul may have been so beautiful hair long and curly with a style so original she made these funny faces when i hit those certain places spoke a different language, espanol what i was graced with i was so damn selfish, approached her so lustfully shoulda let her in my world, maybe part of my family tree and so i left the beach for the home of leans and snapped fingers now i walk the streets in search of another Queen Athena i pray that she's moved on and that she's found something much better i pray she can forgive me that's why i'm writing her this letter.
HA! ya'll know i can't write.
inveigh supercilious soul
Basura Caliente:
S.A.U.S.E. - Distributary The Movie Stars - Coming to the Stage
"I school a beat like I'm Aus at Harvard" - Miracle Ric
15. "RE: Late Bloomer" In response to Reply # 14 Sat Aug-05-06 03:27 PM by blak_yukon
superciliously i v.i. piece puzzles together prove powerful parables devour few with narrow views and my view of some is the sum of a whole of most their souls rot just out to get but get got so... from within empty scenes of envy i inveigh wrath upon those souls who not near know the whole of a half
16. "Dinner with the Devil" In response to Reply # 15
Lucifer recumbent in his chair, zootsuit flaired and I under the worn fedora pulled down over my eyes rolling my after dinner cigarette am wondering What do I get for this old soul, Old Scratch? I don't need them wicked chops and I done bought what pleasures money can give me As for women my eyes are shot and I wouldn't know the face that launched a thousand ships from the one on the next corner over, selling it for ten thousand cents Don't order the crabcakes, friend, their frozen I tell him over the carbon belch of the passing semi I'm damn near incorruptible they done licked me so good Let's say you and I shoot some stick and tie one on I'll tell you what it was like when I first kissed evil.
symposium bourbon highrise
------------------------------ Something like Eldridge Cleaver meets John Lennon
18. "RE: cosmic regime change" In response to Reply # 17
aloha....new one posting from the middle of the pacific ocean. yeah, me and the coconut trees....anyone for a cocktail/chant/tale?
i humbly try my hand at this... although i would be nothing more than a mere amateur.
Confident in his skills He strode along like he wrote the manual itself With an air of one much more than his years He became the Man and strode into my simple world.
Urges never realized became the norm for the moment Revisiting prepubescent tendencies that one never can shake He moved on his own orbit and followed the ebbs and flows Creating images in my mind of me and he, she and I, A Rockwell painting in the making…time stamped immortality
irrevocable proximity guava jam
***politically defined as Pacific Islander, ethnically Polynesian and rooted in Samoa, in my father's eyes, I am merely a beautiful brown woman...**.*
19. "irrevocable, proximity, guava jam" In response to Reply # 18
i need to occupy my mind with something else wondering about things i have no right to wonder about things i wont ever say out loud or put in words creating irrevocable evidence
seeds planted in close proximity to the manifest swallowed in tiny bits sweetened by guava jam making the bitterness of it all easier to take
20. "RE: irrevocable, proximity, guava jam" In response to Reply # 19
i see symbols that send symbiotic messages up and down pages that slide back and forth into temporary files making subliminal poetry between lines and that is where i rest in pieces of your world and mine...
conundrum, Pleiades, simple by the way i luv this ...genious
"keep pennin till the earth birth's your rightful seed then nurture it wit more ink..." ASIEM "Kuun fiyah Kuun" Quran (Be and it is) " A writer takes his pen to write the words again that all in love is fair" Stevie Wonder
"stationed for play" - I distinctly said "Playstation", but I'll give it to you because I liked the flow and because I, too, prefer the guy who works with his hands over the scholar.
21. "RE: up b/c i think this is a great activity nm" In response to Reply # 2
what happened did i do that? start again please sum body pick up the pieces...
"keep pennin till the earth birth's your rightful seed then nurture it wit more ink..." ASIEM "Kuun fiyah Kuun" Quran (Be and it is) " A writer takes his pen to write the words again that all in love is fair" Stevie Wonder
Can I start this again? I wasn't around when this all began. I came across it and I want in!! I'm taking it from ASIEM's Proximity, Irrevocable, Guava Jam:
Who is to judge if the proximity of our lovemaking is too soon? What we have begun is irrevocable. One can only compare our joined lustful bodies-sweet, sticky, juicy to that of Guava Jam!
23. "RE: three words..." In response to Reply # 22
My brain leaks indigo promises onto bulletproof stationary Hands close around soft locks, but I do not dread scott nor my freedom, see i've been fishing for salvation since John baptized the beat And till this day, My headphones whisper truth
24. "RE: three words..." In response to Reply # 23
hip hop is it art official artificial intelligence we categorize ourselves according to our relevance I judge not, so I won't be judged in my hesitance one legged stance kick knowledge in ciphers in front of my residence wisdom, the Song of Solomon, i'm in my elements when I wasn't taggin subways with my eloquence the teleprint it's relevant of this life form, i'm a celebrant (turns off teleprompter)
25. "RE: three words..." In response to Reply # 24
The elixir of language Spills over In spasmodic intervals Creating hiccups Of waterfall wordplay Yet, I'm never really quite sure Exactly what I'm gonna say Maybe that's why there's always Good humored raillery Whenever I spit from the pit of bomb~bay
Rhythmic Combat Photograph
A guitar string vibrating, a measure of my soul, a breech in the silence -- I've always felt like words come through me & I write them down... they have no master --- gsquared ♥
26. "RE: three words..." In response to Reply # 25
Seeing her use her voice.. against a beat, that didn't fit.. lack of rythmic feeling, a soul-less track... she was in some type of sick, twisted vocal combat.. with a jerk of a producer, who doesn't hear what she has to say.. to see her face, a photograph couldn't capture the pure anguish she felt... but what can i do? Im just the engineer.
as i stood outside hailing a taxi, he walked towards me with his eyes bound together and flashing a brown similar to oak, i thought of yesterday; a past we never had and yearned for him to be my future.
the nights make themselves little and quiet not breathing audibly eyes active the rest of the gargantuan body completely still
on a monday morning u can catch a busy street asleep wiping the wine's aftertaste off its lip in an ancient alleyway you can watch the day rise shake itself awake and thrust itself headlong into toil and sweat and leave you behind
to ponder the undercooked bacon on your plate and the quickly cooling chocolate in your cup
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