don't get excited just yet--
Oh yeah, link to old work: [link]
Newest
XXXI.IIIn the morning I wake to another chasm of time;XXXI.II
another closing door that never really latches. And with every step I take I slip farther away.
An un-asked for vision of your eyes flows like the tide into memories that drown me --
water droplets on your shoulders your weakness for popsicles spare keys &
by ~EverydayDreamer
XXXIIShe comes out at night to prowl...XXXII
Hungry for you, she's hunting memories because I can't bear to tell her that's all that lingering scent is.
She's calling for you and all I can do is hope that somehow over the mountains between us you can still hear an echo of her howling
because she never got to say goodbye and now she's stalking shadows.
by ~EverydayDreamer
XXXle bruit des tasses de café dans la cuisine la meme voix dans le voiture le vent dans la fenêtre et les couvertures dans la nuit vos mots dans mon oreille mon coeur dans vos mainsXXX
un espoir pour chaque matin une chanson pour chaque jour une prière pour chaque soirée
un amour pour toute les temps un amour dans toute les choses
by ~EverydayDreamer
XXIXWe wereXXIX
dancing in the kitchen to your father's favourite songs going to bed as the sun came up walking hand in hand through a Young Lover's paradise.
And I'm
floating carelessly through the endless passage of time sleeping with your teddy bear giving more of my heart than is probably wise.
But when I dream it's always your eyes that save me.
Your eyes wi
by ~EverydayDreamer
Favourites
home of ghostsWith silence behind us, and motions, aside; in waves, come hesitance, with you, right beside. with this fist raised high, and my mind, floor deep, little is sacred, this much,home of ghosts
at least, we've learned.
with everything, comes nothing, and with a load of everything, here we are. in solitude, find me, this is not where you belong.
home of ghosts, den of angels; this is nowhere to be sought. tiny dancers, fragile women shed your tears, now, but no more. in jungle, to shine sky castle, pon glorious treetops and clouds, de
by ~marionette-owl
In the Rubber Treads of a...In The Rubber Treads of a Goodyear - By Wyn DawsonIn the Rubber Treads of a...
I wish to sink below these box springs, but I can’t. I'm flesh and dermis. Instead I watch the ceiling stretch away, my eyes bending the light as
their lenses dry in the stale air seeping from the vent.
I’m a pebble in the rubber treads of a Goodyear, tapping off-time down a surburbian street.
On an island flickering with ash, I can’t exhale enough to ignite the dry needles of pine that need to start breathing.
by ~Wyn--
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: California
- Favourite poet or writer: Pablo Neruda
- Favourite style of art: Pin-Ups
- Operating System: Cut first, subdue later.
- MP3 player of choice: Anything not made by Apple...fuckers.
- Favourite game: World of Warcraft
- Favourite gaming platform: Laptop
- Favourite cartoon character: Van
- Tools of the Trade: Laptop, Pencils, Paper...same as anyone else
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~Algie
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Attention Stormwind shoppers: Would the owner of the giant floating necropolis please return to the parking lot - your lights are on.
call or text and I'll fill you in on the goings on.
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Fuck you and your $270 order. We make millions and millions of dollars every year. Hell, I spend $270 a day on my morning tea. I have a single cup hand brewed from rare herbs mixed with the tears of lost children.
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My chest is aching, it burns like a furnace. The burning keeps me alive - Byrne
Glad you like my creepy cemetery pictures
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Art has a right to be shocking
Well, arent we a happy little clusterfuck?
more can be found at :
myspace.com/robotmanmachine
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Fuck you and your $270 order. We make millions and millions of dollars every year. Hell, I spend $270 a day on my morning tea. I have a single cup hand brewed from rare herbs mixed with the tears of lost children.
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