By Laura Winter
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@tlmanx
By Laura Winter
— Vladimir Nabokov, from Letters to Vera (tr. Olga Voronina & Brian Boyd) (via lunamonchtuna)
Almost afraid... I can't help but not be afraid anymore.
I want to sit on a park bench with you
Watch the birds and people watch
Make up stories
Where they're coming from and going to
Take turns first me and then you
And in the morning remind me to wear sunscreen and a jacket
Fix my coller
Brush the dust off my shoulders as I leave
Want me at my best and love me at my worst
And in the evening notice my little scrapes and bruises
As you trace my outlines with your finger tips
Find my scars and make up stories about where they came from
Then make believe where were going and make me believe it's true
One day I want to sit on a park bench with you
I am good. I am loved.
We say we don't like infidelity,
Until it creeps up to our door.
Our children conditioned to normalcy
Through the parenting replacement uproar.
A propaganda or two, fed through a reflection.
Child's play grooming our blessings.
You don't have time? Then slow down.
Stop feeding the machine.
The 1970s was one big sham.
You blame the counter culture,
A sex revolution to be had.
The addicts and cravings,
the worst kind of evil.
No one notices the house wives
Or the veterans of hopeless.
Stop the war! They cry!
All you see is a mirror.
You've let them take over
Not the hippies but your heros.
You must find someone to blame
For your child being gay
Or your daughter who is pregnant,
Before she ever walked her graduation day.
It's not my fault! It couldn't be!
But now you've gone and let a screen
Raise your precious little boy.
Bouncing breasts in an ad
A man left her for his toy.
Pictures of positions,
As a woman leaves with her child.
He isn't even 9 yet.
At least you didn't have to tell him.
For some odd reason
You check out when your needed
For things you can't control
When hiding is better than leading
As long as your character is preserved
You'll be just fine!
Just dont tell anyone what wasn't your fault
You didn't raise that red pill facist.
Life is piling up again, the bills and the dishes and the needs and the demands and-
The chill of early morn soaks into my shoes, as I walk a field wispy with dandelions.
The sun’s rising through winter-stripped trees. A wren begins its soft beck and call, pulling the green spiral of spring from the earth. I stop, and just— breathe.
The time the crickets come out
Chirping in the dark from somewhere unseen
Their violin legs ring out of the shadows
Then cicadas call and the frogs they chirp
The birds will sing come morning just before light
In the dark the sounds they shout
Calling out to the night
The fireflies with their lighthouse beacons
Fearing the coming dawn's light
They wink at me and glow and fade slow
The shouts reach my sleepless ears
They're calls for all that's near
Though they speak a language I do not their calling I can hear
I call into the dark with them through the night
To be heard by a sleepless ear
Or seen by a tired eye
Fearing the coming dawn's light
I call out into the night
Lost in the weeds
I wish they would reach over me
A fort grown out of seeds
Let me be a wild thing
Dad?
Sometimes I wonder if you're there.
When I really think and I really try,
When I'm inside my head
And I realize I'm alive
I wonder then if it is true.
I want to know what truth is,
But some say many things are.
Truth and Facts are different now.
I just want to know if you're there.
Y'know I think the best kind of love is when you're living your life and a random thing reminds you of your person and you smile. There is no fawning or obsession, just a quiet reminder you're in love and that everything is going to be okay.
I think the sun is a little brighter today.
An Ode to The Ones Unseen
Barefoot Princess
Where did you go?
Your castles too high
To be standing all alone
Wandering royal
Where is your throne?
Your bed lies deep within
But you lie down below
What convinced you
Summer would never come?
What whispered too close
Red lines come undone
Winter's too cold
To take it in your hands
The angels caught you
Deep within the seine
Creatures great and small take in the world at different levels.
Lights and sounds and colors. A Kaleidoscope of angels and devils.
Intricate patterns and designs from the quantum size.
Nothing could compare to the very goodness of God's own eyes.
To know you is to love you, and for that I wish to know it all.
On the very earth we own, the Lord rose to call.
No one, except the willing of the living after death.
<3
I am so proud of the man you are becoming.
Literally just gonna look at this everytime I feel I can't.
Photo smile
There is a certain kind of Joy
And a certain kind of peace
Out of the corner of my eye
And from my heart, I listen
The way you close your eyes
Step back just a second
You recollect yourself
With a joyful noise emitted
Sometimes what follows after
Is a fit of laughter
A brightness in your eyes
As you let them wander
But I alone hold this joy
I hold it deeply in my heart
Layers of color in my memory
A captured star in the dark
First impressions don't compare
But I don't have a worry
From the first time I saw you
I held that photo memory
At first you held my heart
A friend, a brother I held so dear
Now you hold me helpless
I'm in love with you, I fear
Wait.
I'm actually gonna be okay.