Well, dizzamLooking at my gallery it seems that things have gotten progressively worse, probably because I went and dug up some old trash. I think I need to reorganize...
~greengreengreengreen
AnaNewest
The Sanction of the VictimHe picks up his feet when she tells him to run in return, she comes to him when he tells her to come in response to the low, dying, beat-beating pitter-patter of heartthrobs her heart strings break violently, vibrations rending blind tissue asunderThe Sanction of the Victim
birthing silence from a hell-hole of blood she tells him the earth is already burning and he doesn’t understand he thinks that the glass will turn into sand he think he will stop and wipe his hands but the dirt and the blood and the sweat and tears won’t come off no matter how hard he rubs them against the grass &nbs
by ~greengreengreengreen
Moving UpThe ribbon left her hands and began to twine itself around her ankles like a red silken kitten. The breeze let in by the open window blew its forked tongue to and fro and it hissed as it slid against her gray silk nightgown. This was how James found her when he returned from a late meeting to his spacious apartment on the third floor of the city. He could see that she had been arranging for him a decorative vase full of pomegranates and crabapples and a few dark dahlias. The glass waist of the vase, he assumed, would have been girded by the red ribbon had she not succumbed to sleep before the task was finished. James loosened hisMoving Up
by ~greengreengreengreen
There's a hole in the bucketThe wind, she said, was whistling in the attic. John, she said, it reminds me of the wailing of the ghost in my mother and father’s house. So up the creaky old stairs he went, decked out in blue coveralls. And he shut up the chinks in the mortar and stone through which the whistling wind blew. John, she said, how cold my feet are, I feel like I’m walking, dead. Please dear, she said, get us some heat; there’s an awful chill at night. So down he went to the hardware store where he bought some supplies and a lamp. Then down he went to the basement dark where he built a furnace by the light of the lamp. &nbsThere's a hole in the bucket
by ~greengreengreengreen
ALONE BUT NEVER LONELYON A DARKENED STAIR WITH A DARKENED STARE I MET DEATH AS HE WAS DESCENDINGALONE BUT NEVER LONELY
EVERYONE ELSE WHO
HAS MET THIS MAN TELLS ME I SHOULD FEEL COLD DESCENDING
THEY TELL ME I SHOULD FEEL GRIEF DESCENDING
THEY TELL ME I SHOULD FEEL TEARS DESCENDING
AND I TRY TO EXPLAIN I HAD NO FEELINGS OF PAIN BUT FELT A HAPPINESS, UNENDING
by ~greengreengreengreen
Favourites
kiteingthese are the fairy days we throw our hair back in the wind ignoring the things that blow awaykiteing
close your eyes see the many birds they're in the songs and gunfire red balloons and satellites
I tell it as it is the world is a kite without string
but the real story is in our hands and how we hold a heart together palm against beating
by ~mySeity
.boat.by ~MichalGiedrojc
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Califork
- Favourite poet or writer: Tamora Pierce, Nabokov, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Anais Nin, John Irving, John Barth, Saul Bellow
- Tools of the Trade: a lightbulb above my head that i really can't trust
- Email: theredbutterfly@gmail.com
- AIM: theredbutterfly7
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I will look at your work soon. Lots of comments coming
--
-Margaux
Poetry comes from inside my pen
my friend, my pen, until the ink ends.-Margaux
Check out the Talent. =RawEm0tion
found this somewhere under the description of "red butterfly" and thought of you...
--
The cake is a lie! And so is the pie o___o The muffins are safe, though. They're on our side =o
--
"Kindness to those who deserve it, instead of love wasted on ingrates."
KEEP YOUR COINS. I WANT CHANGE.
O n c e u p o n a r e v o l u t i o n
I am the sand, soil, sky, wasteland,
You have left me behind.
--
"Kindness to those who deserve it, instead of love wasted on ingrates."
KEEP YOUR COINS. I WANT CHANGE.
O n c e u p o n a r e v o l u t i o n
I am the sand, soil, sky, wasteland,
You have left me behind.
--
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