🔒

space cheese 🐌 and words🍳

[lonesome-cheese]

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Donte Collins

[zeitghost]

my uncle was somewhat of a rascal. we were hanging out on the roof of his barn when i was ten, and we saw some shooting stars. he told me they were angels carrying messages from god. then he handed me his old hunting rifle and taught me how to nick one out of the sky, even when it was travelling all fast like that, and how to triangulate its location — taking me out in his rusty truck down dirt roads, unerring and unceasing, until we saw that gleaming lantern. he pocketed the note from god and took me down to a pinboard where he was working on deciphering the language with his friend who was a linguistics major but got kicked out of grad school. after they shook hands, they held on for just a bit too long and i started wondering why my aunt doesn’t live with my uncle anymore, but then my uncle took me back up stairs and taught me how to fry the angel up real nice, halo and all. it was tasty

[lonesome-cheese]

Summer smells of talcum and freon

Fresh mowed grass

Chlorine, sunscreen and DEET

The waft of the neighbors BBQ

And that sort of stone and damp smell from blacktop after it rains

[lonesome-cheese]

🌌

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[lonesome-cheese]

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A post shared by @9pm_sun

[lonesome-cheese]

[lonesome-cheese]

[lonesome-cheese]

broken glass on the highway at night

beautiful like shimmering stars

throw on a black sky

but probably just a statistic

or domestic violence

better slow down

talk less

[lonesome-cheese]

in the summer you can barely hear a muffled gaffaw tumble from a porch but 10 feet away

but in the winter your ice cold laugh rang true for a mile

some how, things are better then

in the summer you are saturated, drowned, by the constant chitter

oh but those icy, barren, windswept spins

what a wonderful loneliness

sol herself retreats, as distant as my soul

from the summer warmth, a faint reminder

cacophonious nights, hush hush, a lovers touch

and now the leaves are dead and your thoughts are stark

your deeds laid bare

[lonesome-cheese]

eye, don't pretend to know

heart, it was slow to go

mind, had already left

tongue, never laid to rest

you, pieces in my head

me, restless in my bed

I, left out in the rain

U, next to I again

👁

[neonprotagonist]

time to write a weird poem from the perspective of a deer in the headlights at 3 am 

[neonprotagonist]

i often hear how humans talk of crossroads how they look the devil dead in the eye and dare him to move forward.

i stand alone on ground which kills and look the devil in the eye and dare you to move forward.

[angelinyourpoem]

You fell in love with my flowers but not with my roots. So then when autumn came you didn’t know what to do.

[lonesome-cheese]

2 months of dark and stromy mornings where the only color against the gray is the acid wash green of late, humid spring awakenings Sweat among the static and the heat humidity that makes you think of dark, wet brick and dewy moss. of coffee and tangled sheets and reluctant alarms

[adrasteiax]

“A mysterious anthem falls from the golden stars.”

— Arthur Rimbaud, from Ophelia in “Selected Poems And Letters”

[electricraccoonincident-deactiv]

– Lisel Mueller, “Sometimes, When the Light”

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

“At midnight, the moon-plated hemlocks like unstruck bells, / God wandering aimlessly elsewhere.”

— Charles Wright, from “The Writing Life,” Appalachia (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1998)