virtual ink

writing from twitteria [“This diary is my kief, hashish and opium pipe. This is my drug and my vice.” ]

[viperslang]

there is a breathless anarchy to our eyes

centuries fractured like pint-sized railroads

in alabaster walls of a ravaged caravanserai

the salt of 29 years spread their taste of a million

lifetimes lurking between worn-out wrists; the hours

of nightingales denuded inside rivers of...

[inkroutes]

Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Electrical Storm by @petfurniture

yr sky's smudged pencil no matter the weather

the most beautiful thing in this life is a voice

             calling out from beneath the rubble

(((yr job is to find yrself beneath the waves)))

my girl scout badges: Advanced Mewling,

Soup,

        Color Theory,

                    Crippling Agoraphobia,

                                       Kitten Admiration,

                         Handwriting,

         ASMR, Shiny Things,

S h a m e  

runs time through her fingers like a skein of silk

a girl who snaps shut like a golden locket 

she is a smooth river stone you hold

in the palm of your hand   I'll be

the attic crisscrossed with frayed wires

             & you be the spark

that lights me up   a very precise way of trembling

i'll be the mausoleum    you be the moss

a cool date would be wordlessly watching you

balance all the light in the room on yr forehead 

         baby y're the only circle of hell

                             with

                              a

                           waiting

                              list

bend me,       break me,       annotate me

still life with dark circles, chiffon, & a tangle of limbs

a mind like a victorian valentine

a mouth like a magnolia blossom floating in a bowl

of cold water     when the live oaks turn  into circus tents  

& the honeysuckle whispers        bad ideas in yr ears 

an evening wrapped in grey cashmere

the dust that collects in the folds

                    of the sitting room curtains

                      a tremor in the chandelier

      o to be noticed without being seen

if i could be anything i would be fictional

nothing more beautiful & tremendous than

                                            the blank page

    written by @petfurniture

curated from twitter feed by @deja_raconte

#FeedPoetry is where I curate twitter timelines and arrange tweets into poems. 

[viperslang]

Because of you, I don’t wear my claws

out like an open pack of hunting knives.

I have put my battle teeth away 

I don’t have to eat the raw meat of war everyday

& I now know that I need to open the mouth 

of my heart a little wider if I have to shift

my vowels

from hurt to heart 

—  Scherezade Siobhan© 

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

[viperslang]

After Sandra Cisneros’ “You bring out the Mexican in me”

You bring out the Naxalite in me

cartridge betwixt teeth, tongue a

flamethrower, eyes in contagion this

spine;- a ready rail of dynamite in me

The mangled breasts of Santhal in me

The rifle ripped belly of Bengal...

[inkroutes]

Noir’s Arc

my three chord blues progression  

like a hall of mirrors

like apples.

like a snake oil salesman

    coring souls 

    clipping away at my internal wires until

  this incessant ticking goes away

There is no disarmament. 

I am the fucking calvary. 

The sun, crashing like a cymbal for the eyes.

Amber waves emblazoned by a smile.

  She is the robin trapped in my ribcage,

  on a curve  : through razored fonts,

           barbed words, poetic ashes.

knit me a security blanket

                       -- using a string of words.

the signpost spins in the wind and

        I’m lost as to which road is right. 

Finger by finger,         eventually

 bid the rope                adieu.

more          specter than spectator

I’m just the guy on the runway

     with two guiding flashlights.

Believe me or       leave me be.

Build with me a world worthy of us

Carving lyrics in my coffin. Crawl inside,

 -- hear their their rattle   and feel

the hiss     in their kiss    lips like demolition. 

Patience like tectonic plates      I beg you,

    burn me

    because -- 

I am the monster at the end

                            of this book. 

curated from twitter feed by @deja_raconte

#FeedPoetry is where I curate twitter timelines and arrange tweets into poems. 

[inkroutes]

Carpe pseudonym by @TinyNietzsche

Void, sweet void

Let's get dilated.

I got all your glaciers in retreat. 

                when

All I ever wanted was to be covered

in doppelgänger husk.

  Atlas shirked

My favorite color is on fire.

   occasionally glancing up

from the pain.   abstract your age  

don't think       verbatim

  L'abîme, c'est moi. 

  Fuck the gendarmes.

Fold me closer,

     space-time continuum.

A cognitive dissident in the machine.

  Abyssturbation

Rock you like a subtropical depression.

       I'm okay with continents drifting. 

Where have all the adequate times gone?

 You can barely break the skin

    with a weaponized    blood feud

  Nihilist, negate thyself. 

You forget your memories first.

Two is also a crowd.    Murder me

daily.     Be my  infinity.

They are all short straws. 

        syntax   for the feint of heart. 

  Atticus flinched

Show me on the doll where I went wrong?

Here be crayons 

    I was told there would be no meth

You had me at irreparable harm. 

   Act your voltage.

  fail fatale 

A hazy shard of splinter.

   Like a bridge over indifferent waters,

you're on your own   abattoir of dreams

   a spectre, wrapped in a phantom,

inside a ghost.   hide your eyes or I will

take them. 

  I [chernobyl] you 

I am self inflicted.  

    snidely her      whiplash vanishing

       point out your flaws.   You don't have to

live like a subterfuge.  

the inner terrors  wear schadenfreude      

  Daguerreotypes 

I set my zeitgeist back an hour

    echo chambers   won a volcano. 

The better angles of our nature.

                  Tangled up in grey. 

                   I [eternal recurrence] you.       

Take me back,  

                    unfounded fears 

  Godot abides

Exhume me.        the stigma

   of an anachronism  déjà voyeur 

I miss the times when we were silent

  Stay pyrite   kismet    an open hand

gesture     to paint     what I unsee. 

don't let your abysses grow up

      to be nietzsches

   written by @TinyNietzsche 

curated from twitter feed by @deja_raconte

#FeedPoetry is where I curate twitter timelines and arrange tweets into poems. 

( note : he asked me to make them "tiny", so i did :))

[inkroutes]

Season IV of #FeedPoetry commences.

Recommend twitter timelines you'd like to see me curate here.

I am @deja_raconte.

Go!

:)

[inkroutes]

magenta mists and binary shadows by @_Minaret

The numbers I tossed on a piece of paper stare back 

      with quiescent wajd  Your lemmas endure hāl

 on the way-stations of proof.   transfinite patterns in a fractal tree. 

     unearth Ibn-e-Myskuea oeuvre     the outpourings of love.

The terrace levitates me at the helm of space 

          Auroras flickers above: dancing spectre tricked out 

in pastel coloured veils,      earmarked a heretic.

As a line, I've got my angles right:

                                           to the vector belong the spoils.

I pull through megrims, and sail via orison mats.

You're all gimbal wires and no bridge—

            I'm about to be swallowed up by the 24th hour; 

 how your words emit      digital non-ink        

I can envisage that gall and bitterness roiling on your face,

             it makes me want to hold you in my arms 

and punch you in the midriff.   : where I coast in neutral 

without the soul.

this seeming film of cobwebs floating in calm clear night. 

 Convince the world you don't exist but only your words.   

Chase me up and down the alphabet, I am the dance 

of numbers into infinity and you haven't come up with 

                                        the definition yet.    

                                        To my questing eyes,      

                                        You're on the verge of....

 written by @_Minaret

curated from twitter feed by @deja_raconte

#FeedPoetry is where I curate twitter timelines and arrange tweets into poems. 

[inkroutes]

Disco skull by @DogMia78

Popsicle people branded before birth,

    clutching your empty custody

                           in the mouth of my fist.    

 nanoseconds when every single face I see today shifts

   into a hissing ghost.   full of stones 

Cut all your wires and witness the world

        through another box  The blinking dataset on

the sky signals                        that the end is near.

                     there isn't enough roof. 

This portal of entry suggests a cosmic wound

                      too deep to decipher.

My words bounce against the curvature

                   of your unconcerned spine      

I dine on colours,

                      I drink of sounds,

                                              I fall in cycles.           

It's all about loving those who burn more

                                              than those who shine     .

Amalgamates take time         find a shelter in a teardrop

I saw our cars collide on the intersection of your palm lines

This deletable page break

                                between paranoia and a dream.

ǝʌıʇɔǝdsɹǝd

   I need you to be my irreversible agonist

   Notice period is a purgatory 

I have been counterfeit for ages but tonight

   you noticed me, a lost prophet that bleeds with conviction

void memory slot for sale now    pieces of skin with heart

     and a pulse. 

    Unfuck the world

   written by @DogMia78

curated from twitter feed by @deja_raconte

#FeedPoetry is where I curate twitter timelines and arrange tweets into poems. 

[dialoghost]

certain evenings (chest-deep in sliced bananas & segments of unfinished sunlight) arrest the whirling marble of heart’s mouth & eye’s mind divested of glimpse fiercely unlacing a primal soil, folded & pressed into your palm like a snow laden bough of bluebells we spear like talismans...

[inkroutes]

thermostat on a timer by @dustymouths

execution by the morning light 

like you don't even need the sun

--- 

i'm the piece of gum you swallowed

                                        six years ago 

i'm the shoes on the phoneline

                                     in front of yr house

stuck on you like rare-earth magnets

you're like really hard to care for 

   shotgun shells as yr breakfast   

     like its some sort of crime

cause of death: embarrassment

 i can touch you but i can't taste

 you i can taste

                                          you

   but i can't eat   

girl with a single bedpost but she's whittled it

         down real thin like a toothpick

girl with a heart like a six-speed transmission

your insides are trusses and ladders

     and winding stairs made of cast iron

              and stainless steel 

girl w/a body like an armoire

         eyes like sandpaper

             irises black like snakes

                     on the fourth of july

the kind with the diamond grit

the kind they might use to sharpen glass 

       my tongue is speaking in stomachs

don't worry baby i'm just the dress rehearsal

    hanging onto one single second

forever     last fall when you just left me

     to dry up on the sidewalk

but i got stepped on and dragged across town

and i wound up in someone else's yard

       your heart is a glass of whiskey & mine is

a ball of ice abt the size of my fist       dusty enough

kite tied to a string

        but when you reached the end of the spool you couldn't

bring yrself to reel it back in so you just let go 

 now the significance of the moments you really want

 to remember is the way they go undocumented 

   question no one

    trust everything 

written by @dustymouths

curated from twitter feed by @deja_raconte

#FeedPoetry is where I curate twitter timelines and arrange tweets into poems. 

[viperslang]

plagiarism is a vain theory so i detest subscribing to the inferiority of that slant in verbiage. content evolves in community & comrade-ship. creation is and as amalgam. an olio crux whipped into the sturdy architecture of interchange engineered through gratitude unto union.

having said that,...

[inkroutes]

timesplice wordlight prism

(((LOVE’S LATHE SPITTING CLUSTERS                             G(R)AZE, GOUGE))) i am a phoenix who runs,  cutting a banshee-probing  of her textiles tempest because destiny can’t self-immolate dissent dreams arsonists a covert moss upholsters my ribs heart printed, dodged and burned against her lantern’s breath developing tender hurricanes, lessons in the intimate disapearance of thunder the nearness of serrated evaporation cultivating wide-eyed grain around the vast back of horizons discharge returns the charging cafune of lonely wind to adore every turn of distant guts the mulching of ghost-ground within us, soil myth-scattered draped in phonetic eschatons’ yet-casts you read secrets in the joints of my hello moisturize my slab to a glowworm pod an anagram for dying stars  playing growl and yearn over me in blaze-arcs of saturn-spine hover-gripped in honey-mud your opalescent filter atop my intuition flue, i rise as riffs incensed, reinventing the sound of bones growing,  murmured argot of cosmic oars mute spacegraft stitching errors into psalms lips uncurled with constellation considered kisses sidereal shelter engaging my veins you, prisms of you perhaps, if I can hold you this missing reflects in the heart,  (hunks of its own echo stretched) you bring everywhere with you, leaving to be a word and dreaming fingering wisps between myself and a livewire dove  of cut-up opus, yuanfen inserts an ocean-wide hyphen (anchor) [by You and I] ♥♥♥

— [ leedle babyghost sent me this quilt made of fragments him and me. leedle babyghost is the best wordsmith i know of.  ]

note : cut-up created by @dialoghost from his and mine timelines/letters/conversations. :)

[viperslang]

your language is empty sanctum

light, air, salt,

tender and yet cruel my true north…

daemon : the marionette, the tropes…

the dark becomes

inferior, a neutral, toneless voice

the necessary polarity original sin

poetry is psychology

a wound inside a...

[inkroutes]

[macro pyres] by @corv_co

     ["blood-tipped cigars"]   [turing tables]   

  [you are the place]  ["do you know? do you now?"]

  [scribble caravan]  ["magnet riot"] 

      ["semiotic utilities"]   [there are still a few maps]

[untitled root]  [the still copse of life]  

      ["you're not man enough to be vulnerable"] 

[depressed typewriter]  [telling the untold story]

    [find the fulcrum]   [hush & behold]

[convert symptom to signal]   [dust scarabs] 

   [pines & granite]  [breath-hitches]

       (con)cave in/(con)vex you

["are masks our gaze"] 

     [recent theme: articulation of boundaries; fluency] 

[dérive]   [give me my deserts] 

[death is the road to me]

[narrative algorithms]  

                                   ["blinded by a thirst"]  

[cut apart, join together]  

                                     ["hell books"]

["download an alternative"]  

    ["unnamed descent"]

        [turntable of context] 

              [people of the broken mirror] 

[secessio imaginalis] 

    [my mind carafe] 

        [you-rime]

            ["rendering timestretch"]

   ["gods have costs"]

   [brim with HEXES]  

["i am an ancient proverb"] 

     [new permanent ghost] 

  written by @corv_co

curated from twitter feed by @deja_raconte

#FeedPoetry is where I curate twitter timelines and arrange tweets into poems. 

[inkroutes]

Schrodinger's Laundrette by @Chonnymo

ii wish ii could show you this titration,

              the invisible reagent,

              this catalyst of entry

the tiny universe

               tonight

home     memorized hell

algorithm but sensory

input changed

                     lost lost 

 a shadow of a sneer like a bongo

                    behind his words

dead porcelain smiles,

            the veneer of cicada conversation,

now ii can't wake up      

 rock      scissor        laser 

     awkward,    joyous,      fatigue

" I will lavish madness on you,

          bury the night in moonlight,

                   teach the stars to cry your name" 

my fingernails gnarl into metal filings    

       prove me electric .i am a sundial.

my shadow marks. the falling dark.

        you dream a labyrinth, & waken to a maze,

    not the same,

not

   the

same       dagger in my heart

       lets face it sometimes the gods are skulls

              & carrion bell feast attendant 

       .i am an old wind-up toy

I acquired telekenisis & immediately blew my heart

        out of my chest.      All my riches are touch

.i play the aquamarine harpsichord

.i can make it sound like acid jello 

         did you die or what/

forgetting there was life/

         considerate, branded, bled/

sealed in beeswax    5 ravens are

     in a carefully choreographed stand off

                               with a bald eagle in a tree

my ignorance of all things,

          the coils simmering,

                  gone forever in a caress, a careless 

                           .i have gained vision, at the cost of narrative

god is dragged away, raving

             about sugar cubes with dots like dice,

                          the snowman threw them thrice

                                  into the air, they never landed,

  the vacuum 

each moment is hand-drawn. thats why everything takes so long 

this day, this earth, now 

you are my deconstructed anarchist collective,

my fuzzy logic,

my mumbled echo from the canyon,

my godless cenotaph,

gloriona,

call archon 

written by @chonnymo

curated from twitter feed by @deja_raconte

#FeedPoetry is where I curate twitter timelines and arrange tweets into poems. 

[inkroutes]

I ( tu me manques) You by @dialoghost & @deja_raconte

 It was like making an eternity

      of calls on a dead phone

and suddenly, impossibly  hearing a voice

   on the other end.   I probably read

 your code because its key seemed entwined

        within mine own.   as totems released

 not linear or in staccato     i take pleasure

in your presence     there is a wild fragility 

     does an echo convey a character of its own?

i think the best way to describe you would be

     in the vein of a particular yellow rose

 i grow which flowers over long intervals. Its whorls

     are the slowest to open. One morning, you wake up

      and see its canary face bathed in sunbeams

little pinkish-orange brush-strokes on the inside of it

you didn't even know existed.   If you could be cut

     from a slab of stone, what stone would you be?

I wanted to be made of Obsidian and Marble. Like a statue

        of darkness cut by icicles.    

       I am bewildered at this heart concert

I want to know of the days spent living

         out of your car.   I have been awake

 over 36 hours and trying for thoughts is like running

 in water.  fernweh - farsickness or longing

 for places you are not at    thinking of you makes me

hungry for poetry,  You are curlicues of paisley

decor filling up the polished walls of mosques

or temples. Each filigree holds a thousand leaves, an amethyst

 inflection of an entire forest thus carved in stone for eternities

 to marvel at.              I am snake-bitten.   I start writing

    this as the sky erupts like an explosion inside a coal mine

    Have I told you how your letters release jaguars

    in my blood that pace breathlessly reducing the din

of everything else in the distance to a blur?  i want

   to be slathered in mud pigmented

   to match the exact color of your irises.

 the inside of my skull is coated with your voice

it’s dripping like warm honey and molasses

    down my neck   -- that won’t leave

my skin and has  sewn a roseate aura to the curve

 of my spine.  the cartography of your sojourns.

    i was connecting dots like tracing a morse code

the cinnamon-dusted longing that seeps into

the whitest corners of warm milk,             you.

You’re the ambit – the trajectory and orbit,

   as well as the needle focus

of whatever planetary twirl the earth of my being

professes to    this impatience hulking inside of me

 to know      you..more.

   A boy with a face like a verse in Sanskrit .

     i want to write you into a sheet left-handed,

     set my typeface to your typeface,

     flip your ascenders into descenders

     and your descenders into ascenders,

     put you in brackets and nibble your serifs,

    confuse bowls with stems

   You occur to me when the sun breaks

its ochre against the blue glass of the sky 

  or when the colossal page of night

is etched in a braille of constellations.

  a boy made of apparition text and ciphermusic is running

       through my head

 if I could look down into my hands, rub them together slowly

     and

      stop

         time

I would like to fingerpaint sigils on your body with berry juice.

 I am  am thinking of hands that are 2223 miles from me

   if distance were measured in a crow's flying stamina. 

  wake up, wake up.

                      it is

         r      a     i     n   i   n    g      hello. you are amazing...

  note : our letters bloom into tea roses