hellsforheroes

I'm just curious - what inspires you to write? Your poems seem like little word puzzles or a brainflow of thoughts. How exactly do you go about writing them?

Who are your favorite poets? Who influences you and your style?

xoxo

[Edited on Oct 23, 2005 1:30PM]

I still think girls are horrible creatures, but thanks for the insight.

I have this idea where all this lines are played in a loop with distortion applied coming from a set of speakers on a persons clothing walking through a crowd.
This is the kind of stuff I'd like to hear on it.

Oh and that was in a meeting so I couldn't just walk out but I considered saying I had to leave. I just acted like a suppressed brat and rolled my eyes and fidgeted.

[Edited on Oct 19, 2005 2:35AM]

aww. the sadness.

i have birds too. and i love them.

they dont talk to me or anything but they are very nice.


hope you feel better soon.

but it's not "just a bird"

he's YOUR bird.

I went with the dried squid angle. The birthday thing is overdone.

"My spelling is Wobbly. It's good spelling, but it Wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places."
-Winnie the Pooh

i think spelling is silly, like umbrellas, wars on isms, more then one fork on a table and manners with no attention to ethics. if you could teach me, you might be complete, but i'd be disheveled and rediculous.

I've been sober myself and trying to find my footing in the world of thought out metaphore instead of accidental dopamine induced insight.

i'm to worried about continuity these days. i watch Flash Dance and notice she's not wearing blue spandex till the second half of the chorigraphy. sinicism now there's an enemy i love to hate enought to start a war on. ....course people in glass houses....should make sure they have the biggest stones.

this clown

aint big enough

for the
two
of
us. grease

paint
denied. ashes

of a
burnt
rooster

in negative

applied

sizzling
satyr

seeing-eye
frog

hearing-eye
dog

throat-shy
man

horsemeat and viridan

tendon

jumping

in the

pan

Your last couple of entries have just blown me away. Your words always boggle my mind and I love it.

xoxo

I might say it could use some editing but then again that seems to go against t and make it not possible to get that kind of inner flow.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

fiery spiraling liquid fire dreams
high kite colonic
basement ceiling cinema porn
Joyriding mom's chevy
donuts in the desert
smoking grandpa's best shit

Full throttle vision riding
burning diesel constructions
comet shuttle speed rapper
The best time ever
circles, fast
we crashed.

rearview mirror
the fried chicken juice of the past
dessicated
Movement in mind
Heart -- the charcoal sponge
husk
gazing out the angry hard man prison
it's venus quicksand woman trapping brethren


[Edited on Sep 20, 2005 11:41PM]

in truth, some would deffine me as a Cathoilic school, girl "TYPE" in all honesty, i think my guilt over a love for life has more to do with rosary beads then my rebellion from a faith i have no inate hatred for. some might call me a "Camel Jocky", "Sand Niger", "Half Bread" or better yet, and more creative "Gypsy Mongrel". I say i am whater its PC to get away with calling me atr the moment. Some would call me a hippy, some would claim i'm too conservative for pachuli. my journalism prof. called me the queen of focinating simili...she also noted my bad spelling. my roomate said I'm "an explosion of tacky tones, rage, distorted beauty and destruction. On stage, her empty ammunition belt sits around her waist, the ammunition transferred to her tongue". i haven't been on stage for 5 months....a cat with writers block has my tongue...and worse, i'm allergic to cats. I have a significant other...it is hard because i am used to haveing insignificant others. i wear my heart on my sleeve, but oly while holding a revolver. you related my essence to disco...funny my parents met in one, i tipically dislike the music...but would dance my ass off to it apon the apropraite request. and a synth pop princes....sure, but one who hopes she can really sing...i also color on occasion....outside the lines.



one true thing: i did not read your whole post before commenting...i need a better time to procrastinate, during class perhapse, wheni'm not soar from leaping around martha gram style apon the request of some half crazy dance teacher who took to much acid and not enough time out 30 years ago to love, masterbate, or have sex (or a more romantic version of all three).

-the starving artist formerly known as RhainnonWaits....what can i say...i got impacient.

nucleus hourglass

watermellonseed straightjacket

mezcal milkmaid

toothpick jousting

ousting

nothing

keepingfrom

fitting

in

Holy Nihilist.

(Not a contridiction.)

Infinity is not a concept.

(No seperation for
Conceiver to
Consider, no place else
To stand to dream
There's only
"Here" it's)

Always
Today. Sure, God

Is metaphorical
Of man. Stone.
Banana. Turtle. Hair.
RPG. STD. Boy. Girl. Boat.
(Float) awhile
Through a supernova, now

There's an
Illusion. Quite

A show, but we know

It's not real, doesn't matter.

360 sunset spurged, purged
Blended into dark-mud
Jesus-blood. A milkshake.

A picnic on a bride's back, a bridge.

People starving over the ridge

Let them eat prana...

I really enjoyed this.

A stream of consciousness of sorts?

Brutally honest, stripped of romantic metaphors, to the point, to the heart...


xoxo, CC

"I tend to be thoughtful enough to rationally cause and escape my own reality." That sounds to me like you've got quite a bit of control over your reality. I find myself wondering if you ever relinquish that control and, if you do, how you experience it.

I used to leave my toys out too.