December 2011
181 posts
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you are the burnt skin on the roof of my mouth nearly forgotten
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“death is just the moment when the dying stops” clattering cacophony of loose change sacrificed for you. let me watch your decaying skin sag and fall from shoulders, to waist, to feet.
The Week That Was
This week i wrote poems about
cigarettes,
what men do,
icarus, and the rain.
Sepia Sheets was an excuse to use the phrase “the goddess sleep”. Mission acomplished. Knives is a throwback to my writing style like 5 years ago I enjoy this Untitled piece so much i’m going to think up a title…someday Get A Grip You’re Dying wins the prize for favorite title of the week.
People’s...
Anonymous asked: Do you mind if people reblog your poetry?
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dont worry pretty baby boys like me will always be around to build you paper bridges
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open your eyes
“open your eyes” golden light may singe your iris but god will do what she will do. plus have you not seen autumn leaves survive the first snowfall? watch green turn black and shrivel into itself. open your eyes, remove scabs like years of experience.
The Week That Was
This week i wrote poems about
cigarettes,
what men do,
icarus, and the rain.
Sepia Sheets was an excuse to use the phrase “the goddess sleep”. Mission acomplished. Knives is a throwback to my writing style like 5 years ago I enjoy this Untitled piece so much i’m going to think up a title…someday Get A Grip You’re Dying wins the prize for favorite title of...
6 tags
Anon Challenge Winners
whoartgos:
I love all you. I’m so grateful for all the submissions! It’s been a pleasure reading them over the past couple of days. Now comes my least favorite part, picking “winners.” Please send me a message to claim yur piece (even if you dont want me to publish which one was yours, i still want to thank you individually) ok enough stalling.
First Place onnothingandeverything little spoon...
i know you, words outlined your gracious skin like lips are prone to do you don’t know me- these words and lips graze green knees with lies. naive eyes and ears are too easily deceived. ——- collab: whoartgos, onnothingandeverything
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Anon Challenge General Entries
These are the rest of the entries from the Anon Challenge. Besides the honorable mention they are posted in the order they were received. Please message me to claim your piece and my thanks!
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Honorable Mention nothingwithnothing ...
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once wrote you dreams tinted grey from time mine always seem to return here where once we lay
maybe we can regress to ages past and relive fantasies drawn in bodies’ creases - our faded memories still haunt me in these restless sheets. ——- collab: whoartgos, onnothingandeverything
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wrote love like wings told tales of feathers lost drowned once on your words, happily sketched affection in letters sent on winds of white breaths taken while submerged beneath coffee-stained pages of dedication - words revived this asphyxiated heart. ——- collab : whoartgos, onnothingandeverything
2 tags
Anon Challenge Winners
I love all you. I’m so grateful for all the submissions! It’s been a pleasure reading them over the past couple of days. Now comes my least favorite part, picking “winners.” Please send me a message to claim yur piece (even if you dont want me to publish which one was yours, i still want to thank you individually) ok enough stalling.
First Place onnothingandeverything...
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my drink has no reason to lie and in fact may be too liberal with the truth wet rim leaves lips searching for a home
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tracking
shed looseleaf like petals marking my route home. chewed erasers add character to your beautiful prose. asked you to write the ending to these half spoken soliloquies. you could always write me right out of my mask into warmer embrace
a paper trail directs my heart to yours, rubbings of penciled murmurs signposts pointing the way. each word created in step and devoured hungrily - breadcrumbs...
Anon Challenge
I need more entries! FEED ME
whoartgos:
hey bro, it’s an anon challenge! Prompt: Little Spoon on Deaths Bed Where: My ask box Deadline: Thursday December 29 11:59pm EST
Sepia Sheets
whoartgos:
the goddess sleep slips soundlessly from sepia sheets upon awakening I’m left loose stands and lingering scents. found memories held deep in brown eyes the light reflects off porcelain just like your swinging hand glances my guilty face the goddess sleep leaves my lying, good- for-nothing, two-timing ass every morning, and yet somehow makes her way back slipping soundlessly into sepia...
6 tags
correspondence
i. would you prefer i recount these thoughts in the wake of waves retreating hastily over fine grains, cinnamon sand? Or rather let words wave in between verbose gusts of gods breath?
let your thoughts scatter on ephemeral breezes, snow dust tossed in the wind to be caught on protruding tongues searching for a taste of purity - I will dance, waltzing with my imagination, surrounded by...
4 tags
super bowl party swag
in between hits of the blunt she told me she could take any girl here home i believed her
Anon Challenge
I need more entries! FEED ME
whoartgos:
hey bro, it’s an anon challenge! Prompt: Little Spoon on Deaths Bed Where: My ask box Deadline: Thursday December 29 11:59pm EST
4 tags
Sepia Sheets
the goddess sleep slips soundlessly from sepia sheets upon awakening I’m left loose stands and lingering scents. found memories held deep in brown eyes the light reflects off porcelain just like your swinging hand glances my guilty face the goddess sleep leaves my lying, good- for-nothing, two-timing ass every morning, and yet somehow makes her way back slipping soundlessly into sepia...
4 tags
safety orange
you’re all tattoos and excuses. keep your left hand firmly attached to your sidearm just in case i struggle.
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dare
clothes pool around feet like salty reminders of the Atlantic. who dives in (head)first?
What Men Do
whoartgos:
a man don’t complain, so quit yer bitchin and back to work these widgits wont widge themselves i’ve got far too much green stuff riding on this horse to settle for glue you dont write to honor the gods so it’s no wonder they neglect you often, frail skin pales in comparison to lightnings bombast Zeus taught me that male privilege is a trait of the gods he taught me that...
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Lucky #20
you werent a smoker until the drinks told you “try it” and amber waves must bear a striking resemblance to my nervous grin. turn your world upside down like the last smoke.
lucky #20
In My Dream I Was a King
whoartgos:
slip hastily from linen throne. sheets fall like subjects to anoint toes wiggling like the runt of the litter. twitching nose to catch the scent of rosewater. all for the benefit of you(r highness)
Anonymous asked: for the anon thing, i suppose that we can only fill up to one ask box am i correct?
2 tags
Anon Challenge
whoartgos:
hey bro, it’s an anon challenge! Prompt: Little Spoon on Deaths Bed Where: My ask box Deadline: Thursday December 29 11:59pm EST
7 tags
quiet
navigating this labyrinthine romance blindfolded, fingerpainting a disoriented path between crumbling stony walls of dark-shadowed hopes and dead-ended promises, with every hesitant step I wonder - what mythical monster awaits me at its center?
sentences truncated not long after humble lips hung agape words heavy on tongue traced a map down shoulders, my hands long to revisit. cant we...
i bet my pocket that you let your mirror lie. yellow skies mean we’ve got a few more hours yet to erase the progress once made
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yo girl let me get your chemical name
i kept you under my tongue and it was only a matter of time until your binding broke and you lined my gums, leaving behind a familiar taste. foul medicine to be sure, despite rather attractive packaging
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In My Dream I Was a King
slip hastily from linen throne. sheets fall like subjects to anoint toes wiggling like the runt of the litter. twitching nose to catch the scent of rosewater. all for the benefit of you(r highness)
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dark hours
said once i was like the moon how my steps came in the dark of night creeping soft on starlit tread to look upon a love nocturnal with umbrous vision
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collab between whoartgos & onnothingandeverything
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Anon Challenge
hey bro, it’s an anon challenge! Prompt: Little Spoon on Deaths Bed Where: My ask box Deadline: Thursday December 29 11:59pm EST
6 tags
osmosis/diffusion
wish to write you winding rivers and lush trails overrun with bright hues and green. stems and tendrils intertwine like fingers when warm palms transfer the words i couldn’t find onto yours.
wish to write you blushing sunsets and rippling tides reflecting flames of amber and rose. dusky night swallows burning sky lost in time-stopped moments like your words do mine....
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little spoon on deaths bed
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i promise that these sprawled limbs will in time be yours, although they are now confined to dreams (where you left leaves in your wake, chasing)
each passing day I have waited for the mercurial feet of Fate to carry love ever closer on eager winds, extending birch fingers over rocky continents to feel the deciduous prints of hands that’ve carved a landscape of romance across my imagination -...
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“i’m a writer” because i live vicariously through ink on its sojourn from pen to table to floor.
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about a girl
loved you once when outside the punk show young hands learned life lessons gave of myself and now you hold lines preserved from my mind. i hold nothing of the kind you had eyes and consequently no need for words held you once believe it or not in between blank space and white noise, blink and miss it
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the rain
rain floods clouds to wash away remnants of windswept city. rafters and cinder block are man made dams. look at what we have achieved from frostbitten peaks to cavernous depths our savior spares tears for weary subjects. upturned faces lap at falling figurines slipping through fingers they shatter all around us
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Icarus
let’s play a game, who wants to be Icarus? chase words from lips to blouses, “excuse me, my eyes are down here” i am the stanza you neglected to write not much more real than the vapor that emanates from hazy dreams
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En Route
somewhere between thought and intention loose strands of time line familiar sweatshirts grey and the smell of your house brings warm thoughts to tired minds
torn in the space between fantasy and reality threading hopes patch grey-marled holes in this weary heart, beating cold in this empty hearth
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In case you need more writing blogs to follow…
amoralfictionalism:
Okay. Someone asked me to post a list of all the people I follow. I’m not going to do that. It’s not available for the theme I like, and I’m not going to mess with code.
But I feel that I gave them kind of a lame answer… So here are 75 of the many blog that I follow. Please forgive me if I did not include you on this list...
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1:19 am
nights pass in quick succession, while days overstay their implicit welcome. wont this incessant sunlight cease so that drunken revelers may revel? no bother for the committed. raise a glass to pox marked rock in the sky, our favorite lady of the evening
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They say in winter everything dies to be born anew. I wonder what would become of the world if nothing was reborn. When heavy snow snaps branches and leaking sap freezes like so many crystalline ornaments, would these optimistic poets begin to lament cold reality?
The Only Christmas Poem I'll Ever Write
I thought of mailing myself to you today. I had a brand new shiny cardboard box picked out and lined with a few too many layers of bubblewrap. A weeks worth a rations should last me, i thought. And yet when it came time to crown my gift with a bow i suddenly remembered a stubborn hunger for oxygen that burns deep in our fragile chests. Shit. No one wants a dead boy for Christmas
Get A Grip, You're Dying
whoartgos:
years run like water down the drain, someone with numbers on the brain could calculate how long till we lose everything inside heavy dreams haunt pillows and sheets alike, regret that your memory turns off when the lights do sand runs trough fingers get a grip you’re dying
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futile means leave sandy palms once held veins tightly gripped red stains just the same