1 Poetry

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Stryder 23 Aug 2012 Tag: Reflective

A Broken Spine

a book on my shelf has a broken spine. It never cries. But when I open it; not out of malice or spite or because I never cared.. I find the words are screaming at me & I quickly put it back. Books are so unhealthy

Ein Soph
Ein Soph 07 Aug 2012 Tag: Reflective

A chores

I used to watch you fuss with your long, dirty-blond hair, wrapping it round and round, tighter and tighter, bound about the iron... with white knuckles and beads of sweat... until the mirror steamed and words flew from your mouth like blood spatter then the iron shattered against the...

Stryder 27 Apr 2012 Tag: Reflective

A Squirm

The worms have left their gloryholes To fester in the bile penumbra of bleak poetry Old sawbones & the saccharine kiss Of bored ghosts Fading fast from cyber-horizons. Each left ranked in a pile Of dirt & deceit Buried under the rusting carousel That rides itself. & I don’t mind the...

Stryder 23 Feb 2012 Tag: Reflective

A I Am Alive

I am alive a defiant ghost amongst the freefall of the living the drones of hominoid displeasures born from the fury of maddening machinery heavy in the plumes of chainsaw creating dust; itching to breathe taste the...

Ein Soph
Ein Soph 14 Sep 2011 Tag: Reflective

A of smoke and sun

The other day I watched the smoke from my cigarette drift through a lazy ray of late afternoon sun. It snuck through the black velvet that lowered slowly over the window I closed five and a half years ago. The smoke drifted in and out so many gray swirls, frail strands of...

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