Thursday, April 30, 2009

Words of Wisdom...

And now back to your regularly scheduled fortune cookie fun!

Plan for many pleasures ahead.

*blinks a few times, whips out schedule and starts planning for pleasure!* That I can so totally go for, ayep!

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Writing Weirdness...


Untitled (loathing)
(Written: Sept 15, 2008)

New friend a kindred soul
vulnerable moments
trusting, discussing,
of all things poetry...
I loathe my poems
never reach perfection
raw, uncensored, toxic
the words never quite "right"
always lacking something, somehow
bittersweet venomous addiction
but I'm moved to write
let fly my fingers as they will
growling and grumbling afterward
like some proddy mama bear
discontented with too energetic cubs in fall
only hopeful that everything
will settle
and let me rest.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Writing Weirdness...

*hrms* Right... so ... this is just ... yeah.

Called From The Depths
(Written: Sept 16, 2006)

Call it a poem, a plea, a prayer, a promise...
I don't know.
A Muse I don't like is with me.
I never like it when she's here,
won't settle for anything less than black,
dragging it up from the depths,
deeper than I want to know,
deeper than I want to go,
clawing to the surface until it reaches the tips of my fingers...
and explodes.
Frenzy of typing,
one hundred words per minute,
of what?
Of what?!
There's a point in it,
I know there is,
there has to be,
but she never gives a hint,
never a single clue...
So I close my eyes and type,
type until she says to stop,
typing, typing, typing,
and the energy I'm releasing keeps even the cats away.
Why does she visit me, always,
a few days after a really good purging,
why can't she ever just leave me alone?
What's the point?
Tormenting, demanding bitch!
But I can't resist,
I don't have the energy and I'm not hungry.
Eyes still closed,
typing, typing, typing,
always typing,
fucking cunt, let me just curl up!
Alone, under cold covers of comfort with a mountain of pillows...
I didn't sleep well.
Words a maelstrom in my mind,
all night, tossing and turning...
so here I am now,
typing, typing, typing,
waiting for her to be satisfied,
pushy demon Whore!
I don't want to be here, I really don't...
I don't even know why,
right now, sometimes, usually, anytime...
I don't have any energy to fight right now
I don't..
I don't know...
I don't know...
I don't know.
Damn it all I don't know!
I Don't KNOW!

... that pretty much sums it up.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Writing Weirdness...

Insert pithy comment here. *winks*

Moon (tentative working title)
(Written: June 24, 2005)

Dark this morning,
cloudy sky,
it's barely a quarter to six,
not much traffic today...
In the sky - the only clear space - is the moon,
still full and bright and beautiful...
I can't help smiling as She looks down on me,
gaze gentle, motherly tender, missing me...
I miss the moon,
the stars,
the night,
this daytime life doesn't really suit me,
too bright,
too warm,
too noisy,
too frantic,
too full,
... but ...
there's people in the day,
... but ...
was never fond of big groups really,
... but ...
I'm too solitary,
too silent,
too willing to be alone...
without the day I could nearly forget my voice...

... but ...

I miss the night.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Writing Weirdness...

My brain functions in strange ways...

Untitled (therapy)
(Written: June 3, 2005)

Lactic acid buildup...
I should be sweating but I'm not,
I shouldn't be numb but I am,
numb to the physical, the emotional,
numb to the heart, to life.
Breathe in, out, in, out, breathe...
Pulse at one twenty, I'm impressed,
only took an hour to get here,
one, two, one, two, left, right, left, right, keep going...
Fragments of thought blowing away...
Where did this breeze come from?
I shouldn't be here but I am, I'm not,
I am, I'm not, this isn't poetry
it's therapy for the suicidal soul,
shattered, don't think, don't feel, don't exist,
just write, just breathe, just pulse,
left, right, one, two, in, out...

Assorted Stuffs

So as you may have guessed I've been at least moderately busy lately, what with the plethora of posts that I've been putting up to amuse all and sundry... *glances at posting history, frowns* Well now something's just not right there - I've been thinking violently at my blog every day, it was supposed to be sharing my thoughts and things with you! *sighs* Ok, so I guess that means my telepathy and telekinesis are on the pram... figures. *mutters*

With that in mind - here's a bunch of stuff you've missed out on because the web and my evil brain are not on the same wavelengths:

The past two Mondays' "Random Quote Monday"!

A dress makes no sense, unless it inspires men to want to take it off you.
Francoise Sagan

When men are oppressed, it's tragedy. When women are oppressed, it's tradition.
Bernadette Mosala

And, to tickle your pickles, the past two Thursdays' "Words of Wisdom" goodness!

It is better to deal with problems before they arise.

Laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you get tired.

And there you have it folks, you heard it hear first - the best way to deal with problems is to preemptively go lay down! ;)

Sunday, April 5, 2009


Young Chuck moved to Texas and bought a Donkey from a farmer for $100.00. The farmer agreed to deliver the Donkey the next day.

The next day he drove up and said, 'Sorry son, but i have some bad news, the donkey died. Chuck replied, 'Well, then just give me my money back.'

The farmer said, 'Can't do that. I went and spent it already.'

Chuck said, 'Ok, then, just bring me the dead donkey.'

The farmer asked, 'What ya gonna do with him?

Chuck said, 'I'm going to raffle him off.'

The farmer said, You can't raffle off a dead donkey!'

Chuck said, 'Sure I can Watch me.. I just won't tell anybody he's dead.'

A month later, the farmer met up with Chuck and asked, 'What happened with that dead donkey?'

Chuck said, 'I raffled him off. I sold 500 tickets at two dollars apiece and made a profit of $898.00.'

The farmer said, 'Didn't anyone complain?'

Chuck said, 'Just the guy who won. So I gave him his two dollars back.' Chuck now works for the government.