March 12th, 2004

(no subject)

My Views On Poetry
Why don’t I write poetry, you ask?
It's become the playground of 15 year olds
Spilling out their angst and veins on the sheet
Blood on the page doesn’t make it art
Just a biohazard
Death, like an orgasm. Orgasm, like a death.
I’ll listen when you have an original metaphor.
Go smoke a clove and think it over.
Why don’t I write poetry?
I lack the skill, the words, the experiences
I lack the long silky lowercase syllable of cummings,
Plath’s terrible fish rising, Yeats’s rough beast slouching
I have no animal to carry my thoughts to you
Why don’t I write poetry?
I have no time to sit and reflect, and far too little to reflect on.
I’m saving all my prose for ruminations later on.
When I’m older, wiser, slower
Resting in front of the fire with the years behind me
I"ll take my decades of journals
And construct one perfect poem.

-- jenny_rambles
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dear me
  • mhari

(no subject)

"Martha Stewart is demon spawn. I don't have a good, logical explanation for this, but I have always had an instinctual hatred/aversion to her. As I told Britt, for the longest time, I thought I must have been imagining her (when I was younger and hadn't been exposed to her as often), because obviously, something that evil couldn't be a real person from whom people actually buy dishes."

kh || axel || hip to be square

(no subject)

Squee!!!!!!!!! The sun is out, the snow is melting (I can see sooooooo much grass), and I woke up to birds chirping! And on top of that, I woke up thinking I was a Princess! ^_^ I had a very elaborate dream that I was married to Prince William. If it weren't for the birds chirping, I suspect it would have made for a much ruder awakening. Princess Lindsay... it has a certain nice ring to it. ^_^ Okay, I'll shut up about it now.


Harry laid back with great joy,
Watching his little blond toy
Kissing his thigh
And sucking him dry,
And said, "Draco, you're my favorite "Head Boy."

K: Hey Stupid!, K: The Unholy Duo, Dogmatix, K: Lesbian Again, K: Laughing Out Loud

(no subject)

Noticed that playgrounds out here now have large tarps over them, giving the children shade while they play.

Back in myyyyyy day, we sat bare-legged on 200- degree black plastic swings and hung from blistering hot metal monkey bars, burning our young, supple flesh...and that's the way it was, and we LIKED it! Sure, we now have to get suspicious skin lesions taken off once a year. Builds character.

Kids these days. Spoiled.

-- littledevi

Stop it, America. You are causing me physical pain and when I go abroad, I will learn how to say "I am Canadian" in several languages -- including ancient Aramaic. Just in case Jesus comes back. I don't want to admit to Jesus I'm an American. Or that I go to the bathroom.

-- mice
Flying Books

Never tell me the odds!

Quoting neonhummingbird

< laughing too hard to breathe >

Just sold a CD on Email popped up, went to confirm, started to cut and paste mailing label to print it. Noted the address, did a quick double-take, started giggling helplessly. Went to back room, got CD out of pile, left apartment, walked to front of lobby... went up staircase on other side of lobby to first floor apartment literally catty-corner to mine. Knocked on the door. When occupant opened door, handed her CD, said, "You just bought this from me on"

She blinked, started cracking up. Have never met before, other copies of CD for sale on site, she just happened to pick mine. Fastest delivery in history.

Cannot stop laughing! What are the frelling odds?!?!
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