I will be his mistress, wife and friend.

fuck the pinnacle; let's plateau.

assumption--at IT's best.

feminely words of wisdom which fill, not kill nor cheap shot thrills. -me.
and i repeat: i will not be silent, silenced or weak. I will be respectful, respectable, clean and neat. eM
A Californian Fall.
The flaming bushes blood-drenched frost-fired tips cascade multi-story, as though pouring from the crimson open mouth arch of molten sun—its blood-orange dripping ambered-golden breadth upon the horizon. Limpidly stained and flailing fire shards of glistening soggy glass testaments gripped tight by the sooty spider-legged tentacling branches of winter; beside the budding ultramarine glass green sparks of the coming spring.

A Californian Fall.

The flaming bushes blood-drenched frost-fired tips cascade multi-story, as though pouring from the crimson open mouth arch of molten sun—its blood-orange dripping ambered-golden breadth upon the horizon. Limpidly stained and flailing fire shards of glistening soggy glass testaments gripped tight by the sooty spider-legged tentacling branches of winter; beside the budding ultramarine glass green sparks of the coming spring.

MANIFEST.

tiny-poemadoes:


Be joyful.
Please women
(more). Take love
to field. Lie shaded.
Rest(head)inherlap. Swear
allegiance to nighest (your thoughts)
as soon as politicos predict 
motionsofmind, lose it
asign marking -the way
you wouldn’t go… 

Practice resurrection.

(found via: star-wars)

Dedicated to STC, Thanks for the images.
The snow egret
lays on deck with broke wing as Captain plucks—feathers and strings, topping his hat, filling duvets, cutting her flesh—flavoring stews, eating of her and feeding his crew. Oh my Captain! Let me die. Oh my Captain! Help me fly. But what fuckery is this?
Captains cracking another wing.
mogadonia:laura9:suicideblonde:benhasten: The Albatross “The poem received mixed reviews from critics, and Coleridge was once told by the publisher that most of the book’s sales were to sailors who thought it was a naval songbook.”
engraving by Gustave Doré
Image via Art Passions

Dedicated to STC, Thanks for the images.

The snow egret

lays on deck with broke wing as Captain plucks—feathers and strings, topping his hat, filling duvets, cutting her flesh—flavoring stews, eating of her and feeding his crew. Oh my Captain! Let me die. Oh my Captain! Help me fly. But what fuckery is this?

Captains cracking another wing.

mogadonia:laura9:suicideblonde:benhasten: The Albatross “The poem received mixed reviews from critics, and Coleridge was once told by the publisher that most of the book’s sales were to sailors who thought it was a naval songbook.”

engraving by Gustave Doré

Image via Art Passions

(via aco)

(via aco)

Books, like friends, should be few and well chosen. Like friends, too, we should return to them again and again for, like true friends, they will never fail us — never cease to instruct — never cloy. charles caleb colton (via paperbackgirl)
i am sorry.
I am searching for my bestest friend… in the mean time, i will keep to myself and bleed words on my web. these words are good.

I am searching for my bestest friend… in the mean time, i will keep to myself and bleed words on my web. these words are good.