 . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . . . . . . . .  . .  . .  . . plus kristen glass wherever you are! |
blue
Favourites
i did noti did not say goodbye. i built her goodbye out of hyacinths and delicate replicas of butterflies, lipstick kisses and quivering gazes, pink teddy bears and frantic portraits of childhood.i did not
i did not pray with a bowed head and folded hands, i did not kneel in the pews or before the casket. i don't know if it was just me as a child still questioning the remarkable ways of spirituality, but i felt god was a better listener when i talked to him with eyes wide open, when i looked to the ceiling of the chapel where lost cherubim lounged still on an acrylic silver cloud, believing they were in heaven.
by *Solaces
on the wateri. tonight's crescent moon-- an elastic moccasin with quicksilver stitches, treading on a swamp on stars.on the water
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ii. starfish in shallow water mimic Ophelia; they suffocate under the weight of their own rippling breath.
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iii. bleeding in the bathtub, the redness of the wound leaving in the form of clotted koi.
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iv. a fish tugs on the line, wondering what puppeteer on the rowboat above is making him play marionette.
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v. the willow tree dives
by *Solaces
My HomeI'm walking down the streets alone, Because no other place feels like home. The cold, still air is just what I need, Beyond being sane, and beyond being free.My Home
Walking in the alley, and it's nothing but dark, Tripping and bleeding on my way to the park. Sitting on the seat and starting to swing, Hearing the bats flapping their wings.
I go forward fast and come back slow, I stick out my feet, merely for show. My hair is disheveled among my freezing scalp, I'm cold as fuck but require no help.
My shoes hit the ground and I skid to a
by ~obsessed-with-avatar
Newest
wet rode
cowpen daisies
Words
elegy for wendy jane doei found out later you were only four i thought you were much older i kissed you right there behind the counter at Wal-Mart i kissed you and blew gently air into your lungs and i counted to three and i looked for the signs and i kissed you again and blew gently air into your lungs and i counted to three and i looked for the signs and i kissed you againelegy for wendy jane doe
Wendy, you must know this your mom has no patience she left fingernail cuts in my shoulder like a once upon a time lover i didn’t know until that night when i took off my shirt to shower you were one
by =sevenbullsboy
song for a friendi saw the picture i saw your face i read the lies between the lines in that big old broken spacesong for a friend
no hard feelings no more stealing glances no more secret dances no hard feelings
i read the lines beneath your eyes the sadness that they sell how your simple expectations
fell victim to anticipations
no hard feelings no more reeling from the lines that come between us the words that tacitly demean us no hard feelings
i saw your picture saw your face in that damned picture saw the unrequited distance
by =sevenbullsboy
the hum of high wiresOkay. Okay. 10 p.m. A small plane strums some old symphony over Sycamore Street, the stuff I never listened to. Dade and I laughed about that, the music of planes, the music of katydids in the June noon, the music of rattling cabbage trucks at dawn, the rhythm of pumpjacks and irrigation pumps, the syncopated whine of locusts, the hum of high wires and highways. Dade could take anything and turn it into music. I just sang. The summer of our own symphony was the summer Uncle Ralph hired us to stand at the end of rows of cabbage and yellow squash and green cotton and wave red flags, markers for his day to day job poisoning bugs from an old mustthe hum of high wires
by =sevenbullsboy
sometimes suicide is . . .sometimes suicide is not enoughsometimes suicide is . . .
this is a confession not some tired old poem about poetry
i don’t know about you but i always lied in the confessional
maybe that’s where stories begin
i never wanted to confess i distrusted priests before it was en vogue to do so
father might tell my dad
“bless me father for i have sinned, it’s been a week since my last confession; i lied to my dad 'bout smoking, and me and frankie threw rocks at the school bus.”
“is that all?” he’d
by =sevenbullsboy
mother ocean, father islandOkay. You never think of this until it's too late.mother ocean, father island
You wade into the surf and dig your toes into the thick sand and feel its layers pulled away and close your eyes and then there's a swallowing and burying and a constant pulling away and you're being yanked to the side and your knees buckle and then you’re sucked out into a giant stumble, flinging out an arm to catch you and you try to put your foot out there but it’s stuck in place and quicksand is going through your head, but this is not what you pictured, not a drowning, though that is what quicksand will do to you, drown you in lungs full of grit, or else just burs
by =sevenbullsboy
unrequitedOkay. Okay. This is what a trance feels like. Standing in a scalding shower with ice cubes between your toes. Whistling sweet little tunes in moonlight. To the moon, singing sweet little tunes that never have been sweeter even though they don't mean anything. Anything at all. Except for you thinking they do. Then let's say this trance is yours alone. Or let's say it belongs to your friend too. You bounce your song around lily-white in the afterglow of April dusk, bounce it around the red vinyl, the scratchy Mexican poncho not-really-a-blanket on the trunk, the dirt, mosquitoes humming along, not my idea of singing a song, trance or no trance.unrequited
by =sevenbullsboy
Webcam
my real life friends on dA
Visitors
~GlassDollHouse
Nov 21, 2009
10:10 pm
~inertiacreeeps
Nov 21, 2009
7:29 pm
~tensemonkey
Nov 21, 2009
3:57 pm
~chelseaeh
Nov 21, 2009
2:59 pm
~moonlily7
Nov 20, 2009
7:01 pm
i am
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features & honors
| my works have been: featured by my friend and stunning prodigy =johndeand in his journal: [link] featured in the gorgeous gallery of =catemate in her journal here: [link] featured in =Adi-Emus's Orange Contest here [link] featured in the halloween special journal of =redwolf518 in the journal here: [link] featured by =Adi-Emus in his journal: [link] featured again by =Adi-Emus in both a journal entry and news story: [link] * to see my specific featured photos go here: [link] and featured with nine of my photos by ~cateyed-art in a news story: [link] and i was a participant in the Happy New Year's Project 2009: [link] by `Flutterings |
my other sites, networks & special shoots
| dA portfolio [link] dA portfolio of urban landscapes & highway snapshots [link] check out and feel free to use my natural and urban stock texture gallery here: [link] ~ guidelines for use posted with each texture . . . please message me with any questions dA writing here: [link] you can check out my alternative art site on dA, put together with the help of the amazing =johndeand, here: ~beadedPrayers i have a blog where i write about friends, film, theatre, music, dance, sports and a wide range of personal interests -- you can find that here: [link] i do documentary and narrative films, and samples of those can be found on my YouTube site here: [link] i am also on Facebook: [link] MySpace: [link] Twitter: [link] and a few other miscellaneous networks . . . Halloween and Dia de Los Muertos Shoots -- [link] Diogenes/Dionysus Film Shoots -- [link] obsessed compelled disordered Film Shoots -- [link] Music Shoots -- [link] Wimberley High School Theatre Shoot -- [link] Theatre Shoots -- [link] |
Featuring Two Favorite Artists 
LongingdeviantID
| this beautiful ID piece created by the inimitable *montroytana from a photo by the wonderful =johndeand ~ thanks guys |
Devious Info
- Current Residence: ingram/kerrville/hunt, texas but my heart's usually either on south padre island or in austin
- Interests: angels, friends, film, music, theatre, writing, taurea, soccer, dance, bugs, horses, seafood
- Favourite movie: the whale rider, life as a house, juno, squid & the whale
- Favourite band or musician: lyle lovett, blackfire, ramones, hendrix, eric taylor, denice franke, patty griffin, rage atm
- Favourite genre of music: everything from anywhere, except overproduced commercial crap
- Favourite artist: joan miro, tons & tons of dA folks
- Favourite poet or writer: william goyen, sam skeist, john dean domingue, naomi nye, harjo, forche, arthur & oliver koppenb
- Favourite photographer: john dean domingue, greg lasley, thomas boydston, phlezk, dA ad infinitum
- Favourite style of art: raw humanity, extreme, skin, photography, sculpture, dance, words, music
- Operating System: windows 7
- Shell of choice: Holospira goldfussi anacachensis
- Wallpaper of choice: electric city, beadpost, bojan krkic
- Skin of choice: angelskin
- Favourite game: watching
- Favourite gaming platform: soccer field
- Personal Quote: "everybody dies, only a few live"
- Tools of the Trade: canon xl2/d60/d10, toshiba core2, cs4 master, sony/marantz/nakamichi, wrangler, words, beads, guitar
- Website: http://milkriver.blogspot.com
- Email: hurricanetg@hotmail.com
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--
Me-I wouldn't consider myself mean.
Friend-Well, okay. But would you consider yourself a fucking asshole?!
Me-...Not in so many words.
(\\../)
(O.o) copy bunny into your signature to
(}O{) help him achieve world domination...
(_)(_) With his cookie...
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* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
terminally addicted to beautiful
"everyone dies, only a few live"
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rainbows are on sale
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* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
terminally addicted to beautiful
"everyone dies, only a few live"
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rainbows are on sale
I'm pleased you like my poems.
(Your new ID is excellent)
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There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
tg
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terminally addicted to beautiful
"everyone dies, only a few live"
--
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
terminally addicted to beautiful
"everyone dies, only a few live"
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