Pondering's of an ivy mind @talking-backwardss - Tumblr Blog

Posts

Take me to the desert to swoon under the moon on a plato, finger tips pointed to the horizon, to dance with flame the color of rich sand beneath my bare toes, to feel the sun lay to rest on my skin and soak into my veins to submerge in cool streams, and scream of cliffs, Take me to the desert, to feel the tinniness of my existence, yet crackle into the night like flames, suspended on a plato under those ten billion stars feeling the harness and beauty all coexist in the desert

I find myself on back porches

The cold an old friend,

Found in crowed markets

But with a different face

The mirror and weather change

And I am caught in the winds

Howling dancing my heart to the moon

When all the walls are down

And only your left

Do you dance

Do you scream

As the wind on cold nights

Batter your edges and fall into nothing

On back porch shadows

I dissolve into growing pains, sprouting between my toes and figure tips, I try to fit in this inbetween, two parts to big and two parts to antsy to stay to long, long a relative term to calm impatient minds, soon a quick inhale on cold mornings, im growing older, in the four walls which I was once so young, growing pains in my sleep, when I wake I wash it down with coffee stains, I find pieces of myself on street corners, back pockets, and familiar faces, that hold no more comfort only familiarity, trying to chance myself to my own punchline, Finish my decade old lines with different punch lines, I can not convince you I have grown, or let you feel these growing pains, I know you feel yours too, I want to turn myself inside out, and diagram what has moved, even if it is only an inch or two, Or just the way I see these black and blue insides, so i dissolve again, into these growing pains, and wait for the bloom to show

-cl

Craw into last nights rituals, Like voodoo spells on the 5th of october, You know my body to well to pled innocent, two play this game, putting all chips in, whip lash a familiar feeling to people like us, putting the past on pause, present in hyper drive, Dragging you back to nights soaked in adolescence, Talking in novel length shrugs of fatly indifference, I'll be your wide eyed school girl, But take me full fledged hot and heavy into your bed, Where your warm body says more than your lips, Im falling into your cool composure again, whispering swears of I'm scared into the dark, the ghost under the bed will sip up take backs, While taking each other by the hand, Shaking our goose bumps to a beat, Of maybe our own demised defeat, Of each others silhouettes, beneath the sheets, or musty carpet heaps, Be cautious, old territory has been taken over, Old hymns lye in the pit of my stomach, Is this a exorcism of past figure tip affection, or a reaction of something three chapters back, Your lips taste like nostalgia, while my hips move with new found confidence, Maybe you don't like who I have grown into, Unable to stomach faulty confidence, but you taste the same, like bitter indifference on a Saturday morning, Shoulder shrug, head held higher, Unknowing of what to do with my hurricane composure, Downed in what the movie told you IT should feel like, Plead victim to the love you told me of, like a deices that was bewitched you, Maybe then you will be able to write off the sparks, as an ever ending symptom you didn't sign up for, While I let it suffocate my dis jointed brain, You cared less, and you'll always take preyed in that, Which seeping from your open pours, Into my addict like tendencies, You finally won, my body turned into a play card deck, Im your gambling chips, Set in indifferent ignorance, Use me as a wash towel and i'll never be back again, Playing poker with my defeat and deceit, and your cool confidence, Both playing a game we delt the hands for, Getting blasted on each others pocker faces, Know whats behind the iris in each others eyes,

-cl

Bullets fly like battle in my head, Never ketching up with the leader, Disjointed army formations scatter, Left with pieces of yesterday and tomorrow's, Flooding pools of multicolor moments, Left on door steps of could have beens, The floors remembers the question of the universe, I learned it once when hitting the ground running, Then bit a bullet in the midst of my sub conchious war fair, Now only hearing the palpitations of my heart race, Shush what's racing through your mind -cl

#My writing

stagnant-vendetta

Backpacking in Medicine Bowl Canyon, summer 2009

Burning

This cigarette tastes like a chore, and I don’t have enough vices left in my cardboard box, To gracefully pick your scattered words from my teeth all night, Simultaneously shoving clouds down my wind pipe, choking on forming hale chunks, to suppress my words already lost in next chapters chatter,

So I jam my mouth with fire sticks, Lighting each one with my palm embers, As mouths speak in sour tongue, Skipping the important words,

Afraid to climb out of vast chasms, to see what color the dirt is at the top, The smell of damp must too familiar, writing S.O.S in the rubble at the bottom, with our bloody stubbed toes, Refusing to watch the exploding smoke signals in the sky, heads buried too deep, dignity deeper, To see they explode to read all the same pain, Blind folded explosive engeners,

Were losing touch, Spiraling into pits we’re digging for each other, Telling ourselves “death” could just be the best bet, With out checking vitals, Outfitted in horse blinders, For our own ignorant safety, Looking down so we don’t watch each other drown, Don’t bother to holler, A tree falls with out a sound, when the whole forest plugs its ears,

Preaching warrior techniques, Of a tribe thats been burning, From the roots to the tips of the leaves, In the midst of a civil war with no motive, Vedetta carved too deep into our forearms, Yet piercing hot eyes, Refuse to uncover the reason why, once intricate woven root systems, are crumbling into ash mind fields, of empty rooms, with echoing voices, Talking to the hanging matter, instead of asking the walls why they have been burning.

-cl

#My writing #creative writing #poetry #spoken word #spilled ink

Embrace messy hair and crazy hearts

Lonely reads across dorm room dwellers, in the midst of there first moments of the "time of there life", Holding empty trinkets of home, Shirts still smelling of him, Day dreaming back to the warm side walks, Where your friends are always right around the corner, Snapping back to the four same walls, With hanging picture frames full of supposed too's, A stranger slumped over a 2 by 2, Glancing only at young blank faces in frames, Your mother gave to you, Knowing nothing about you,

-cl

#imdrunkandIdontknowwhythisisrelaventatallreally

Tonight I count the constellations in the white stucco walls, Three times over to not miss Orion's Belt, Listening to the fan spin white noise melodies, Harmonizing with the beep of the washing machine, Beep after god damn beep, Unraveling the white venier to keep you out of my mind, I circle back to you, Knocking Fine lace curtens to the dusty floor, Slipping into vicaden slumber, Even the morphine dancing down my veins, Dowsing me in thick unsweetened honey, Letting me slip into anything other then me, Can't seem to loosen you from my pours. -cl

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Pondering's of an ivy mind