Vacay-09

"You pray in the storm, I'll sing to static on the radio 
You there in the amber, I'm the clay 
I just pulled out of a city I no longer know 
who says don't bother writing unless you're dead 
or in the family way 

Parades, alcohol, and love's swinging phantoms 
Everything everyone's been dying for all year 
Jimmy says there's no God in the sky holding him for ransom 
but he's doing alright keeping himself hostage down here 

This is where the insects go to expire, fire 
This is where the children go to weep, sleep 
This is where the gypsies go when they retire 
Now they're counting on you kid and your famous cold feet 

But if everything rolls around again 
does that mean we are free? 
If everything rolls around again 
does that mean we don't have to follow the grail, 
we can go ahead and swallow our tails 
and then just wait and see? 

If everything rolls around again, 
what about the ceremonies in our beds, 
the crushed flowers in our heads, 
the hope and the smoke and the sleet 
and the sad reocurring dream 
and the thirsty kisses in the rain 
and the promise only the dead can keep? 
Is that when we are free? "

Taken from "The Only Living Boy in Omaha" by Simon Joyner & The Fallen Men

The Pull

Man, Stupid being

You do thaat.

Birds nest nest nestle in restless oak next to fleshless metal

Confused party goers stumble and slur obscenities into the moonbeams

Cute and uneasy to pin down most of all , they love it.

"My colony is love, apology and love."

Eat my skirts

So I had originally planned to try and come up with a 50(really ya'll ?!?!) word essay for Skirt magazine about why Feminism is important, naturally I wrote a long winded introduction and an even longr set of verse.

Stranger

Mangled sense of self 

I play drunk piano while you put your youth on the shelf

Swamp water spilled over 

Soaked the inside of the boat in ways of clover

Come over,

I am unabashedly lucky

For I truly know glee and barely know myself

Like how time must understand how long it takes a flower to permeate a slumber of cells and numbers.

ps this is like, 60 words?

Curiouser

Say to me shaking 

While water pours itself out into a larger merger of  mass

Nothing this innocent should be worth breaking

I suggest my calmness much like my unsettle will pass

More often in mornings than otherwise, I find myself to be a peaceful person

It's once night comes and we are left with no more than a theme to dwell upon

A sometimes comforting silence but mostly deafening meander or absence of light

Confused like tadpoles we wander out into the larger merger and soak our loins in salt

Lay a weary head in an orchids nest

Balmy and fragrant won't stop an open mind

I drink to feel pretty and insurmountable

I could populate a large party with all the girls I've fallen in love with

It would be a fun party but I wouldn't want to be there.*

* I think this poem should be called I I I I 

Cloud Pool mission statement

Skied over the dew drawn fields at dawn

Flailing and "FUCKING!" at sky eyed chirpers

Cloud's reflective of ponds reflective of palace spirited spitters

Spitting splinters at the chipper and untamed woodland sitter

You paint me a picture, I'll draw you with words

A colorful speechless

Cheeking and a why not wry

Morning bathed birch

Writhing and all smirks

Tempting too

All we are is all too unkempt

I think,

a caged bird still sings

honey bees buzz and sting in the wind

bring me truths and I'll be the caged bird singing in the furry sand

albeit a bit bland

nonetheless hand in hand in hand in hand

Bury me in wood and I will splinter, bury me in stone and I will quake

"Once I saw it and I knew it and you will to when you know about it."

This is an album by Smog, I haven't listened in at least a year up until a week ago and I am convinced that this man knows me better than I know myself.

I don't usually plead for people to listen to anything I post, and would never dream of pleading for anyone to like any of it , with that said.... please listen to this, alone in quiet.

A River Ain't too Much to Love.......

psps

I'll be there

God is a word and the argument ends there, oh do I feel like the mother of the world.

David Shrigley on the brain today for some reason... I've been going through pieces of his that I have had saved on the drive for a while and figured I would share some of my favorites. 

I am supposed to be writing a 50 word OR LESS!?! essay on why being a feminist is important to me and others in skirt(hehehe) magazine and

I can't even explain my current state of mind in under 70.

Grace lend a hand to thee collapse

My Collapse is unimportant

Save up pencil shavings or feathered rings of your old tree heart

Put em' in my cap and think about it when your crying starts

Who could understand what it could mean to be free from anything

How could you possibly be free to understand anything if it were not for a misunderstanding

Subjection is the subject

The personally willful change by subtraction

Why must all beautiful creatures have such a starving desire for impurities

Mind lost.

If I Were More Intoxicated

I would've said oh yeah

No one else likes it so it makes sense that you don't either

We're all grown up and stuff right everyone?

So actually be it and not just act like it pal(lindrome?)

So much cooler than me

Run ego run, 

Catch yourself before you rest in that sea of likeness that everyone and you reside in.

You make me tired of Charlotte.

-Casey