blind devotion path to exploitation what’s in it for you is sensible, not selfish keep our head on your shoulders In other words, devotion at Patricia's Place
Blind devotion
blind devotion path to exploitation what’s in it for you is sensible, not selfish keep our head on your shoulders In other words, devotion at Patricia's Place
Here's a Retourne what happened was experience what we remember are tales we told ourselves about it they go on to become beliefs what we remember are tales what we saw, what we heard what we touched, how we felt in frameworks of our choice we tell ourselves about it repeat the story … Continue reading Reality is only a perspective
Here's a Butterfly Cinquain fire compels action speed and effectiveness dislodges resistance, which sense infernos may bring opponents together inside stories paint different pictures Power Colleen's Weekly Poetry Challenge
Battles are about establishing supremacy. Battles are initiated when one intends to show others as small, or others retaliate in the face of imposed smallness. Whoever wrote ‘all is fair in love and war’ was so damn right. There are no ethics on the battlefield. It is only victory that matters. The difference between love … Continue reading No Means No
“Boundaries with permeability baffle me. What was the intent behind it?” “There is no intent, just imagination. It is an invitation to transgressors, minus the responsibility for consequences.” “It holds good for all frauds – perpetrated on institutions – and/or the self.” (271 characters) Twittering Tales #73
The challenge is Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Sandi has posted a story at Humble, but Humorous, with an invitation to continue the story. Sandi's Story Immediately, I flashed back to accepting my invitation to the mill. There were six of us who had set up sleeping bags on the outer, upper balcony. About 15 minutes after … Continue reading Are you In or Out?
scalding words intended to diminish end up as seeds for a heightened sense of individuality I look down on the ashes of a bond that once defined my boundaries of living I burn but just enough to induce belief in myths of the Phoenix (44 words)
Moonlight smells of insomnia and dreams. I hear the sound of late night revellers and graveyard-shifters. I think about the crimes being committed somewhere. I feel the chill in the air as the street dog curls up in her sleep. I sip a few more drops of alcoholic imagination. I see my blank screen, as … Continue reading Smell of Moonlight
Intense!
How often I wish to chop you up,
smudge you down,
wrap you in a paper towel,
and smoke you like weed.
Do this once, then repeat.
I know the ways one rejoices pain.
Extract pleasure out of misery, entertain in ways inhumane.
No, I don’t need cocaine.
I’m already high.
I’m always high.
High enough for you to contain.
Why?
‘Cause I’m made of stardust.
I am born to do epic cosmic shit.
I’m a parade of indefinite meteor shower,
And that’s just not it.
I’m hollower than black-holes.
Mightier than solar flux.
I’m hard to comprehend.
Harder to omit.
Swinging in a level way beyond ordinary,
I’m a celestial mess, vomited amid stars,
trying to draw sense out of it.
And how I wish I could slit all your miseries.
Wrap you in a paper towel,
And smoke you like weed.
~
How often I wish to pry…
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