We must laugh to feed the monsterif we stoppedthe monster couldn’t grow. Hovering above our wordshovering above our laughterit swallows our insultschurning in the pit of its gutand shitting out upon the rest. If we stoppedthe monster couldn’t grow.If we didn’t laugh at the wrong jokesthe monster would shrivel up and have to be watereduntilContinue reading “We must laugh.”
Tag Archives: art
The forest feels.
The trees are blushedas the clouds stare down and the grass curves up in delight. A quiet peacefulnessthat ends abruptlyas life flourishes. Soften momentsin which memories are retained in the clouds. As the clouds see it all holding it in and releasing it back. The grass soaks it upgoing from an upward curveand down downContinue reading “The forest feels.”
Hands sloppily stitched.
The stuff animals split apartand hands sloppily stitchedcutting pieces that couldn’t be fixedcreating something differentthat isn’t quite as cuteas the originalsdefinitely more nightmarish. One part is looking forwardthe other to the sideas if it’s untouched by the changeit’s still itselfyet something elseand it’s ok with thatbecause looking after someone elsegives its life a purposeand whomContinue reading “Hands sloppily stitched.”
I swear they burrowed in.
I’ll take the thing this wayyou take that other thing that waywait move a little to the leftI don’t want to move to the rightyou’ve always been in chargeand I’d like to be this timelook what happened when I let you guide us through repeating it’s the shorter waywe will have extra time as ifContinue reading “I swear they burrowed in.”
I wrote a poetry book; Can We Sleep Now?
(I am a participant in the Amazon Associates Program and any qualifying purchases made through affiliate links I may earn a commission on at no additional cost to you.) I recently self published an art and poetry collection through Amazon. For the collection I drew a new creature each night and wrote a reaction toContinue reading “I wrote a poetry book; Can We Sleep Now?”
The ashes have fallen.
The ashes have fallenscattering as they drift aboutmaking their way to the groundas the one leftslowly snappedto the pressureof survivingfalling within it’s final placebefore it’s timethe pressure of finding stabilitycauses restless thoughtsand the restless thoughtsaren’t calmed within a tree poseand deep breathscauses the branch to achedeep within it’s chestfeeling as if it’ll burst into flamescreatingContinue reading “The ashes have fallen.”
I can see a face.
There is a noise I often hearat times it is angryat times it is sadat times it is happyat times it chuckles a diabolical laughter. If I look closely enough I can see a faceappearing when I am alonethe face looks as if it is meltingas if it is made of wax.tears I cry stingContinue reading “I can see a face.”
As if your a truth teller.
They’re so fake that’s a large mistake claiming others as liars and living beneath a lower bar as if your a truth teller your level of oxygen is bringing us underall that air compressing out your lungsit’s time all your lies have been hungthere is to many to be rung out enough water to adverseContinue reading “As if your a truth teller.”
Flashes of heart.
Thumps in the distanceeyes illuminatedflashes of hearteach one more distraughta creature bornriddled between two places torn. When I work on writing a book I often get wrapped up on the ending, and each character and then I’ll go off on other stories before I finish one. I have a difficulty staying focused on one thingContinue reading “Flashes of heart.”
Curious minds always searching.
Eyes always lurkingcurious minds always searchingthe keeper of knowledge willing to shareas if their minds truly carefor the answers aren’t always as they dreamfor the answers are overlooked rather than seenwe want the world we perceiveso badly we choose to believe. Thanks for reading.-Temperamentally Tina