~selfishlyconscious
4 dead cyclists. All my fault.
Newest
the stalkerI inadvertently attractedthe stalker
your goggle-eyed senses
when the odours of the day rendered me pensive.
You must have slipped in when I let out that bee. Pestering my vicinity, vibrating past me.
Rubbing your hands together, plotting the next move never have I wished for
a spider to intrude.
You sense my discomfort, pick up on my fear,
inducing a hot flush. Hair follicles shed a tear.
Now my patience is spent as you loiter with intent, seemingly hell-bent on following my scent.
Kamikazi dives
by ~selfishlyconscious
snippetsDrowning in debtsnippets
I swam lengths and breadths only to plunge new depths forgetting to resurface and take one last breath.
Poker faced
You’re like a Cuban boxer, a good heart - but no threat. Can’t take away the stake if you don’t lay down your bet.
Kicking the habit
I was shooting up and smoking trees when I saw you in the Champs Elysees.
You had a certain joi de vivre,
we skipped off into the sunset,
by ~selfishlyconscious
the 90'sSwirling inside multi-coloured shapes, I dreamt of slipping into a page of splodges of paint.the 90's
In the park of split metal, paint-cracked from pebble dash, we swung like monkeys from branch to branch, until falling onto gravelly glass. The place where I once stood entranced at a bug-eyed da
by ~selfishlyconscious
conspiracypointed, this flesh as we take flight, fusillade voices bre/ak o u t through sitting ducks. a sky-high game of skittles, (elsewhere a missile) and I (gun-shy amongst pestiferous motion) play along.conspiracy
explosions and grey blankets - the magician's slight of hand. (for the final act a dictator gets pulled out of a hat).
- -
in peaceful defiance a faithful man
is
by ~selfishlyconscious
Random Favourites
Five Two-Line PoemsBiosophistryFive Two-Line Poems
Your muscles are the lies your bones believe.
Abandonment
Hold yourself close Like a preschool juicebox
Bob Dylan
Your name should be a verb no one uses correctly.
Self-Destruction
My hand twitches now, and I can’t paint.
Old Habits
The flapping, torn edge on the hang-glider of time.
by ~SpazzkortheAbsurd
...creator...by ~gifter
...litany...by ~gifter
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: nowhere near here
- Favourite movie: kung fu zombie
- Personal Quote: Politics is the art of looking for trouble, misdiagnosing it and then misapplying the wrong remedies
- Tools of the Trade: pins and needles
- MSN: hatemail.com
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--
I itch & pain all over
with hate of time &
tedium Save me!
Kill me!
--
a sneak peak of things to come [ read it here. ]
Your gallery is first-rate.
Not on lockdown as such. Every now and then I get an urge to tinker with things, I guess you could call it boredom or something.
This message will disappear in f...
How are you? Has the lure of sugar been leading you astray again?
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