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The Fleece Sheets Are GoneThe fleece sheets are gone,The Fleece Sheets Are Gone
and we stretch out on a bed
of smooth cotton, the comforter
crumpled at our feet.
You’ve opened the windows and the wind bursts in flamboyant and billowing burlesque in the drapes.
The symphony, or cacophony, Of an awakened neighborhood
vibrates through the air:
salsa music plays on a radio a small child counts to thirty a pair of boys race their bikes somewhere a woman is laughing
We are spooned together, our skin pressed against skin, awash in t
by ~DragonSadhana
Parvati“Who’s that?” I ask about the Hooded man standing beneath – Beneath the cares of us, or us, Yes, the U.S., us –Parvati
The aim of rifles, on a truck In the middle of the desert. “Just a bad guy,” you say as
The photo slides –
wave it on –
to the next Of your experience
in yellowed dust. You add nothing more. Yet, I can’t help but wonder – There must be more to discuss. He had a mother, and others, I wonder if they live, And I wonder if they know
That he stands unnamed. &n
by ~DragonSadhana
Human EventsI sit silently watching A class of smaller bipeds Bent over paper on wooden desks Paint-stained and marred through yearsHuman Events
Of human events:
Will they know that what is in their past Can stay there, Set as the stars in the sky –
A constant testament to our existence In this place, In this space, Where love has multiple meanings For that which is immaterial cannot be held down:
The breath of laughter Tears of isolation, rejection, lack. I think of what needs may be unfulfilled,
And can they fill them as they grow?
&nb
by ~DragonSadhana
Snow in JuneOur backs pressed against the shaggy bark of the tree My shoulders warmed beneath the weight of his arm The atmosphere drunk on the desultory dynamics ofSnow in June
Party doers and drinkers Party talkers and thinkers Thinking, “What is this?” As he lifted the bottle to my lips And I held the clove cigarette to his.
His friends smiled at us as we lingered close, Taking careful steps in this courtship As timid as fruit flies I once saw dancing on an orange To, fro, back, forth, Passing, catching every look
And innuendo, every excuse to touch Until finall
by ~DragonSadhana
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Connecticut
- Interests: Art.Writing.Yoga.Pole Dancing.Bellydancing.Studying/practicing Spirit.
- Favourite movie: Almost anything by Hayao Miyazaki, Tim Burton, Guillermo del Toro, and M. Night Shyamalyn.
- Favourite band or musician: Tori Amos.Ani DiFranco.Regina Spektor.
- Favourite genre of music: Alternative.Industrial.Techno.Hip-Hop.Goth.World.Celtic.Trip-Hop.Indie.
- Favourite artist: Van Gogh.Gustav Klimt.Brian Froud.Josephine Wall.Susan Seddon-Boulet.Jia Lu.Yoshitaka Amano.Monet.
- Favourite poet or writer: Neil Gaiman.Robin McKinley.Anne Rice.Edgar Allan Poe.Charles Baudelaire.Derrick Jensen.Howard Zinn.
- Favourite photographer: Howard Schatz
- Favourite style of art: Fantasy.Impressionism.Post-Impressionism.Pre-Raphaelite.Classical.Contemporary.Mixed Media.
- Favourite game: Fatal Frame.Final Fantasy.Mario Kart.
- Tools of the Trade: Watercolor.Pastel.Charcoal.Oil.Acrylic.Love.
- AIM: Dragon Sadhana
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eat your words. i hope you choke.
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Always credit the stocks!
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Love is...giving someone a chance to destroy you, and trusting them not to...
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Buahahahahahahaha! PENTOK!!!! RAAAAWWWRRRR!!!!
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Okay, Mulder, but I'm warning you. If this is monkey pee, you're on your own.
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"Prism hair and moonlit skin, darkened eyes and touching lips; shadow wisps and night kissed flesh, simple thoughts of innocence."
~Dimitrix Lykaios
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