my heart in a glass jar, I tell you break it, or me

fine without you psychically present out loud and when the sun settles down I want you here with me, my head space dedicated to your heart space the clock will tell our future to take its time caressing present moments forgetting the world and the agenda that says we must think before we feel but, I think that I feel too much and I feel we belong together, I am the woman who purposed to the moon that hiding at night was an option necessary for regrouping the adequate glow that allows the animal to find its home and I have, under the stars, felt that home's presence stay awhile, or at least until I can etch the sky to say you're beautiful the way you came

untitled seventeen

Wolfgirl, tend to the night
Flowerboy, you're allowed to weep.

don't listen to them tell you you're not a man,
who knows, you just might be a woman.

flesh meets meaning meets right brain expansion

Elisabeth Condon

soul meets canvas meets heart wide open

giving the last bit of honesty stolen from the collection trays at church

sing to me muse that which are the colors of your mother's past reflection,

do you remember the stars met when the brush finally hit the stroke across the horizon?

thick acrylic medium meant the most in times without her present

the image giving birth to meaning giving birth to sensation

giving light to the ignorant who choose to be color blind discounting the naked artist

free mind intersecting

habitual habit of escaping through layers of tormented filth

constructed chaotic malfunction of the brain

paint meets soul meets gut wide open

exposed alongside sharp lines and edge blur

the intent behind the shades and movement of the bristles vocalizing your creative thinker

water spirit rinse ritual cleanse heart thump, melt inside my world, feel inside my heart

Andrea Wan

am I allowed by societies standards to feel deeply about you

wave drip tender spot, soak my being saturate my fears

pretend to fly with me at night before our lids lay to rest

beside, inside, around me,

you found me,

and thankfully by lips spelt home

my hands security

my legs stability

my arms the seat belt to our future sound echoing unity

and I wonder if you notice my weakness for the things you say

effortlessly rapping rocks on mountains,

I long to build you creeks to flow in transparently rendering animals created from your mind's eye,

I found you

and thankfully our bodies spelt forever

druken slur heart sauce brain slush

A Challenge To The Dark
shot in the eye
shot in the brain
shot in the ass
shot like a flower in the dance
----- Charles Bukowski

born body caged, ebony triangles covering negative space

David Wojnarowicz

waking moments

days spent lost with you

creating candy solar systems

through childlike imaginations

lines we walk that never connect

beyond the rainbow dreams flourish from raindrops beating on your tin roof

values of light ushering ghosts to follow through

sliding down so far the exit looks like a forgotten halo

angels found me naked next to my corpse a box of collected knickknacks

I never wanted to be liked, just loved

somewhere beneath loathing must be the fallen fruits from surrealist trees

coral fangs and tangerine guillotines

goodbye letters return to flight

sharp, hollow figures of black and white stop me from sleeping

cluttered rooms and name calling make feel at home

steps on the toes mistaken for admiration

magic found in water

roses smelling of forgiveness

disappointment turning into creeping shadows looking for ways to elongate their image

subtracting pen marks is almost impossible, you must always add on

pregnant joints erasing the reality of organized time,

marry me stranger I am a widower of influences that couldn't make it

confused about my gender they tell me I need to make up my mind to fit in a category

(Paul Johnson)

I am just as womanly as any of you ladies

I just carry a stick and bat balls you could say

do not look away from the real issue

your fear

I am here, get use to it

I am just as feminine as any of you ladies

I just shave my face and sweat like an olympian

stop doubting me,

I can hear you loud and clear.

The night you strung chritmas lights across my closet and covered the floor in a sea of pillows for hot boxing, I knew I loved you

Gustav Klimt

and I see the moon's craters in your eyes, magical devious disinterested breather of all that is celestial, come back home behind my ribcage, where you always fit best, precious snowflake tasting of sugar and grapefruit, bitter sensuality, we are closer worlds apart, projections of our love, boundless passion holding still for your return, set aside your heartbeat humming next to mine, I fall asleep to the lullaby of our hearts making love.

sweaters keep me warm like hate these days

Milton Avery

(alternative title: lost
traveling
vacancy
lot failure
rearranged intellectuals
fragmented
soil
horizon depth
years
nostalgia
bruises
tokens circles
holes
woven
disillusionment)

((work in progress))

to feel you is suicide
my dearly beloved
take with you my memories
of which you called dishonest
take with you my remains
the key and the lock
the anxiety and the tissues
cry a river to nowhere
watching your reflection
screaming to yourself
choking others
drowning with you by my side
to drink the water
to hydrate yourself

red paints the sky at the sight of you
projecting insecurities
on to the leaves of tress
blocking out the sun
you wear mentally ill like a bodysuit
prancing
upside down

I without you
walking off into the distance
like a marionette
controlled by jesus
attached by invisible strings
descending from the mythical heaven.

untitled sixteen

L'antigrazioso Umberto Boccioni

http://oi52.tinypic.com/x5z4ao.jpg

those who touch but wont allow be touched

Sr. Salme

resorting to which you had
never conjured up in ill thought and reckless abandonment
when the skies would drip like honey in our mouths
I smelt the the sea salt on your breath
felt the wings beneath the tiger's shoulder blade
hard metal body becoming safety from
monsters in sparkling suits
the leaves shuffling at our command
moonlight dancer nebula fornicator

untitled fourteen

(gustav klimt)

today I did things that reminded me of you
I rode my bike to the bay
felt you along the sun's rays
as I sit in a tree
I feel as if I were implanted into history
as if the bark holds more than I psychically can
the leaves likes declarations of independence

correct me if I'm wrong but, I feel at peace with everything

today I did things to feel you there
like feeling small next to the ocean
a pebble in the mountains
it's alright by the sea
the water reflects foil-like shimmers
twinkling like the city's dreams
flooding the waters

I can feel
anyway I choose

truthfully, I think you're ill

agitated
flustered
disgusted
amused
aware
sickened
brokenhearted
elevated
key
righteousness
goddesses
metaphors
polar
differences