drifting in the light
of a tender touch
letting tension go
feeling so alive
taking it so slow
let the loving flow
following the curve
she’s my violin
i sense her body sing
la la la –
her skin
that’s where it begins
rolling through the arc
sliding to the bridge
touching ev’ry nerve
reaching to the edge
coming down again
swooping on her sound
flying
falling in
Author: A. Gouedard
Machinima by Bryn Oh
Machinima is the use of real-time computer graphics engines to create a cinematic production. Most often video games are used to generate the computer animation.
Shine
my answer was always going to be no
all of my instincts said i must go
dreams are not only a thing of the night
you didn’t express it, when i was there,
when i was in pain, you were so scared,
but our purpose in life
is to travel and grow
come out from that blanket
breathe in the air
darling just shine!
look at the light
ready to bite
that night
my teeth
came loose
in their sockets
that night
after the terror
my teeth
came loose in their sockets
that night
i sat
with a stranger
drinking tea
until dawn
in the brightly lit kitchen
of hell
we hid behind
cynical
ragged
raging
jokes
to lighten the load
‘my teeth
have come loose
in their sockets’
i told her
‘stress can do that’
she said
the next day
they had tightened again
and i was ready to bite
It Wasn’t Nothing
I don’t like the power
you hold over me,
the power I let you
hold over me,
clinging to rain stained memories
as insignificant in retrospect
as their simplicity—
holding my hand in the car.
I don’t like revisiting
that moment,
knowing now how little it meant to you
as it stained my life
with impossible desire
as childish as a birthday wish.
I don’t like the compulsion
to write about holes
that shouldn’t exist,
the ridiculousness of caring
for someone that viewed me as a blink.
I can’t stop thinking.
–Leanne Rebecca
When it comes to the heart, it’s amazing how quickly it can be hurt, that even the most meaningless action to one person can devastate another. The only perspective we ever really have is our own, especially when all of the sudden, perceived truths turn out to be wrong. This is my fancy way of…
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Sweet Rose
in my mind,
and in my heart,
in my soul
completing,
i know she blooms forever
sweet rose,
so entwining,
unbounded,
unrestricted,
all life’s joys defining
Riding the Wild part 5
envious lol
My Mother
there you lay
in your cradled bed
unable to move
hair thin,
skin frail,
bones sagging,
your eyes open
but, so far away
perhaps you are where i
remember you best,
smiling,
on your knees on the carpeted floor,
round, radiant summer skirt,
spread about like a pool
Sycamores
Under southern summer stars
she dreams at night
of northern winds
sighing in the sycamore,
whispering of kisses.
The rain on rooftops
hisses.
A shadow falls across her bed
and fills her head with tender words,
unheard again,
unspoken yet,
until the morning comes.
Boys on a Bus
rumbustious rivalry,
clowning for all they are worth,
jangling hormones,
uncertainty,
nerves and bravado,
the boys at the front of the bus,
huddled and pushing,
their shoulders colliding,
create a passengers nightmare
the girls look on,
full of disdainful glances,
dreaming of their brothers best friend,
the sixth former at the back,
quiet and serious
and oh, so desired
i feel a deep urge to tell them,
wait longer than that
before they awaken your heart
boys are slow in their growing
and some never know
they have that journey to make
but i only sit, making a note
in my constant notebook of life,
my smile benign
The Dreaming Path 