hypnopanic

there must be something beautiful out there.

subversion in rose.

bitter music

s[he] is a concept: s[he] is oppression.

oh early colonial literature, you turn me inward and sideways

not yet old enough to look back and sigh

nostalgia at its finest

escaped

purpose: yes. explanation: no.

whittled by addiction, the Consumed will fade.

falling (if there was an "unworthy poems" category, this would be in it.)

i can't seem to come out of the clouds

cheers. (repost. )

inspired by an indian lullaby. you can see them dancing.

it speaks for itself.

fairy princess façade; deceit, deception. (criticism is much appreciated)

africa's children flee by night shadows: desperation, despair.

Glue baby, this is not the love you were born for.

We dance out our problems; artistic differences, as they're called.

Apathetic & estranged, you march on with oblivious tendencies.

Blue shaded birds painted on fine china and indigo hued auras.

Crash, crash and it all goes away.

it's all your fault. just cry. [trying out new styles, i'd love some feedback]

"They shared a violet, violent love..." The eternal love story with which I've become so enamored. Expect more to come.

i feel. and i am.

bitter.

"Sleepers sleeping, chance of fleeting/From the colors trapped inside of this external world so old." A rhyming (yes, rhyming) poem inspired by Salvador Dali's artwork.

Ponderings of life in a lazy town lead one girl to the ultimate answer.

Just had to get some thoughts out. Please be gentle; it's not my best piece.

good night. [with many thanks and cheesecakes to linaeve for formatting help] UPDATED

Ripping apart the natural beauty of a flower is now deemed advancement. What have we come to?

"Highway silky with rain/Navigating the silver stars..." Another beautiful, embellished moment.

Inspired by a series of photos my dear friend took while in Memphis. For her.

Short, but it made me smile. Just read. It's eight words.

From behind the smoking gun, we find this.

"...A sculpture in motion...". The telling of a path and love so artful, words can't quite do it justice.

A snippet of my feelings on life, connecting, and consumer culture in a mildly-organized fashion. Your thoughts?

Sometimes, it's hard to write because writing expands feelings. Sometimes, we don't feel.

"...A place where glass melts back to sand..." Of time and an old, enlightened man.

"...Pouring delicate honesty into China teacups...". First writing in a 7+ series about my love.

It constantly amazes me at the things we pray for today. Here's a "modern prayer". Not bashing Christianity, more society in general.

She was beautiful, but beauty comes at a price. . .

Recently, a friend of mine told me I'd changed and 'conformed to the stereotypes' of today's society. Here's my rebuttle. ;) Enjoy!

The story of a "goth" with something to hide. (it's a guy) Almost done, lacking one or two more chapters. Hope you enjoy!

These are not so much poems as visual art forms. I clipped interesting words from magazines and put them together in poetry form. But they do have a lot of meaning. Read on.

Wars have come and gone, but all they wanted was to be remembered

Not a Bush-basher, not a terrorist-supporter. Just putting the blame where it fits.

These are just some thoughts I had about love and hate, feel free to review and contradict me. I know you want to. ;)

This is what I can sometimes see when I look out my window. Don't ask, embrace.

A look inside a manipulative mind

A short poem about the class system and ranking in Medevil times according to the salt. Please r&r!