kids are crashed
from sugar high

candy is cataloged
face paint is smeared
eyelids are heavy

it’s close to midnight
we’re watching Daria
and fighting sleep

November is almost here
with its turned-back clocks
and pumpkin pie

Collaboration #5 / 2014

I joined a few others in adding a verse to one of Diana’s stunning photos. I definitely recommend checking out more of her work.

Life Through Blue Eyes


I found
a seraphim’s
silver thumbnail
on the railroad track
reflecting ghost of past

I was only looking for my lucky penny

©2014 Steve Schultz
Facebook Link


The Watchmaker God
left a seed
with a new universe

©2014 Alethea Eason
The Heron’s Path


 Infinitely small but existing.
I am here! I am here!
Cries my reflection.

©2014 Edwynna Roach
Facebook Link


 A shiv-ling
reflection of our lives
reminds us of what we are
and the purpose of life

©2014 Aditya Sachan
Views on Everything
Facebook Link


 a reflection
of me
that I set

©2014 June O’Reilly
Facebook Link



all that’s left here
is a mere hint
of us

splintering images
in glinting silver

buried deep

with the ghosts
we engraved
on brushed metal
and a bed of oak

our allegiance
creeps up

View original post 71 more words


Can you see me?
through the screen
through the code
through the html

can you touch me?
can we reach out
and touch some one
through static trees

yes and no
can you know
my blood, what’s
inside my bones

you can’t push
finger through web
and poke me
in my rib cage

you can’t know
the grade
of my pain
my headache

you can’t know
my number
my size &
social status

who can know?
the point at
which we break
how far we go

they must know
our lung size
& clothing style

can you hear me?
between your breaths
and sighs
and bursts of brilliance

you can’t be me
comparing dicks
and scars
and tears and such

we are we
and you are you
and he is she
and I am only me

and I am proud
and I am sad
and I am whole
and I am incomplete

and through and through
I am fucking me

and you
you are beautiful


So sick of the drain
not quite pain
a bruise and a poke
a nagging finger on pulse
internal itch to scratch
slow burn, death is not fast
no blood to be lost
a choir quietly chanting
swallowing bitter pills
between meals
vomitus aftertaste


spilled discourse

up thoughts
with a cosmic sock

Licking front teeth
looking for
raw thought

Searching for
and median to pull off on

Where were you
when I was backpedaling
softly on training wheels?

Moving forward
while I was
sinking into past

I cut my teeth
on bread so unclean

Pissing away life
to trade in for
interstellar dreams

Sifting for a thread
come apart at seams

Pure force

Where were you
my star
after I was the prequel?

at nothing
to mete out my breaths