neglected music
snap bruised roses and
salt at my toes
dirty flurries
covering the tree tops
sticking to my lashes
to make my blue eyes an
older grey
the dropped songs and
i shiver
sweater too thin for us
and my bare feet
curl
to protect the
tender flowers
from the
chill...
the devil chased me here
playing a slow molasses
song
to make my blood in kind
he knows just how to lead
the cold fools
away
lay me down
soft wet river
bed
i tire of the conditions
of my travels
and I long to never hear
the old man's
sweet sounds
again
from my toes rolling
up I will sink
my woman's hairs
rising to cattails and reeds
hollowed breasts shells
from migrant snails
my eyes tiny blue fish to dart
and my hair
just part of the stream
constantly
moving away
to move toward home
out of the mouth of the Lion
i climb
bloodied and foul
am i
the fleshy remnants of
you cling in my teeth
and lower places
no amount of scouring
or ritual
can remove your razed
path on my body
soul friend, you are where
you will stay
i will grow used to the
stench
and cherries fix
nothing
the heat or
this acid mouth
filled to brimming
with what you
never wanted to
hear
this soft focus
woman is grown
tired with little
clover thoughts
and chains of pleasantries
like daisies
as a crown placed with a
smile too young
for your beard
breath and hope are
holding
as I eat cherries
again
lip and fingers
red
and petals falling on
my shoulders
independent of each-other
my hands operate
left turns one sweet chin
right holds another soft hand
crossing paths every so often
they bump-brush
confused they stop
to stare
offended at the interruption
quickly taking stock
of each-other's
agendas
then fly
pockets holding judgment lest
they be judged
pale explorers
long and capped
into the forest and
valley
the path is slick and foreign
i slip down the sigh of your
name
is it you that trembles
or me?
a low river
is my sorrow
running quietly
so there are days
i do not hear
the burble
i dread the days
when the water swells
and my mouth
can only speak
cold water words
You see, I'm a liar,
I don't really love you,
I just enjoy being with you,
I like the way you smile and laugh,
I really adore how peacefully you sleep,
Every time you're not around me, I really miss you,
When I hear your name, I just have the biggest of smiles,
It's just that you completely changed me, so you see, I'm a liar.
I would like to submit to this publication, (you should think about it too) but I would like to know what you guys think are my strongest pieces.
Calling all poets!! Taft college is looking for submissions for their literary magazine, A Sharp Piece of Awesome:
It is the mission of the Taft College Literary Magazine to provide editorial and production experience in literary publication to students of Taft College, assist the community in networking with writers globally, and promote the reading and writing of imaginative literature.
"The magazine's title explains what we are looking for. We are looking for sharp pieces of awesome in both po
This You Will Lose All The Rights to Your Own Art
from Animation World Magazine
Visit this article online at (http://mag. awn. com/?article_no=3605)
Mind Your Business: You Will Lose All The Rights to Your Own Art
Mark Simon is mad as hell and, in this month's "Mind Your Business," he tells you why you should be too
As you know, I usually handle the subjects in my articles with a sense of humor. That is not the case this month.
I find nothing funny about the new Orphan Works legislation that is before Congress
In fact, it PISSES ME OFF!
As an artist, you have to read this article or you could lose everything you've ever created!
An O