The One


 

I’m Not the One Who Broke Your Heart

I’m Not That Girl Who Took Your Soul

I’m Not that Female Who Broke You Down Crashed into Pieces on the cold linoleum floor

Not that Girl Who Left You stock shelves on threadbare spiderwebs cascading into a fall.

Not the Her who hung your dirty laundry out for all to see Who Bled Your Veins dry and drank your arteries into desert sands

 

I am the One You’ve Been waiting for

She Who feeds you.

Come pour your soul into my vessel. Let me bind your wounded heart.

Up until now you’ve been dealing with small-minded females.

It’s time to partner with a real woman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kick the Ballistics with Missy Elliott

Missy Elliott – Get Ur Freak On [OFFICIAL VIDEO]

Missy Elliott – Work It (Official Video)

 

Creatures of (Dizzy) Comforts


 

I am Liquid Stranger. Pour me down your gullet and drink. Sonic blooms decorate never desecrate. Welcome to the Hotel California where guests check in but they never check out.

What are you? A human Jukebox? Why must every crime scene trigger a song for you?

Creatures of DizComfort. Radio Check.

She left off the beauty of decomposing remains.

The Rising Sun
Psycho Barn House

Jules left her back door open all the time. Rain storms, Torrential rain. Cyclonic winds. All in the name of our local Rev. Pastor Rod Golden    who gave daily as well as nightly highly personalized counseling sessions. More like Golden Rod as his ratings and popularity with the recent widows and divorcees bordered on scandalous.

There was a gash in her head. Stab wounds all over her torso. She was a bloody bashed in mess. Salted molten lava gush from her……….. Looks like she was bayoneted 1000 times.

She was the niche that somebody carved out like a holy day gourd.

There is much beauty in empty overgrown abandoned lots as in the well kept garden with front and backyards.  Mother Nature reclaims her own. Including the hidden bodies.  More gifts to be discovered on Christmas day.

 

This one’s D.O.A.  I’m hungry. Let’s go get a sandwich or a burger. Make mine rare.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Full Metal Sneakers


 

 

Veiled. Screaming to be released from the afterbirth

The Caul. My prison.

Cursed by circumstance. Crushed under situation.

Abstract speed reverse back flip imps.

Beaten by barbed wire. Ripping out chunks of flesh. Battlefield: Code Red.

Burlap sack repentance.

Life is the quality of lies we live by.

A Quark of timing and fate.

So said the Hurricane to the Tornado.

LOve,

Pixy Dust

 

Banquet

Aftermath


 

Yves Tanguy

 

Are we getting rid of family items as well.  So the family is not involved. She had no immediate family and the few cousins disowned and abandoned her years ago. Did what was expected of her only to be shunned. Minus the body at least the apartment is neat and clean. Like she knew she was gonna die. Heart burst. Plus a cerebral hemorrhage. Literally died of a broken heart. Her soul died years ago just waiting for her body to follow.

After being married several years the husband suggested she should go on holiday to her birth country. About two months into her vacation her in-laws called saying maybe she should not return. Alarmed she took the next flight out homeward bound only to arrive at the house and find that her adoring husband had rented it out to a swingers club. She no longer had a home.

Never got to go to the Ashram, the Retreat, Spa or Warm Springs……….Forgotten.  Fear. Frustration. Failure. Flaws. 

asylum, cover, covert, harbor, haven, protection, refuge, sanctuary, shelter ~~ None.

For her no celebrations. No honors. No medals. No rewards. No accolades. Only a pine box. nameless. In Potters Field.

God. She must have been laying there at least two weeks. Found dead on Christmas day. Nobody ever bother to call or knock on the door. Smell alerted her neighbors. Decomposed blob. Nice Holiday gift for the Coroners office. Off to the city morgue with what’s left of this one.

Forty years ago families looked after each other. They cared about each other. Now you throw your family member into a hospital, hospice or nursing home and forget about them. Not your responsibility. After all you have your life to live. Why bother with the elderly, disabled or poor.  Nobody wants the broken and damaged. Broken toys belong in the dumpster. They mean nothing.  Crime clean will wash away the trauma.

Vanish into the mists of time.

Just remember that the cheapest coffins are hidden behind the ficus.

He left a book behind for his family. A how to book. You know Death hacks. Then he blew his brains out. Brain matter on the floor, walls and ceiling. Part of his face was found on the drapes. Kid found him. Beside him a child actor photograph of himself that a fan wanted autographed. Show ends. Reason for being ends. Purpose ends.

Six months later the wife hanged herself. Poor kid. In six months lost both parents. Only left a suicide manual. Suicide hacks.

Welcome to the Land of the Fucked.

That’s a wrap. Time to bounce. Yandy, I’m hungry. Whatta ya say we stop for a burger and fries move onto the next poor slob.

 https://youtu.be/x7BeGDZewHshttps://youtu.be/RFSWW4O6QNM

 

 

 

 

 

Elegy for Wait Town


 

 

Standing on the platform waiting for the subway train to arrive.

Sitting at work waiting for an end to be homeward bound.

Waiting for the M2 bus. Again waiting for the train.

Hibernation. Sabbatical. We have No Extradition Treaty from this Land. 

Waiting for my weekend.

Waiting only to begin the cycle once again.

Which Season is this silent wondering??

Waiting for payday.

Metropolis reformed for the 21st Century. 

Waiting for vacation.

Waiting for retirement.

Doctors Office = Wait.

Dentist Office = Wait

Waiting for physical and emotional pain to be evicted while they both claim permanent residence.

Grocery Shopping check out line = Wait

DMV = Extended Wait.  Stuck in the passing lane.

Spending most of the time waiting instead of doing.  Yet not knowing what I should do to make the wait shorter. On the other hand perhaps the wait just is and it too is waiting for destiny to manifest itself among the galaxy cosmos. Searching for Excalibur alongside Her Holy Grail.

Romance = Unknown wait. The Lover waits somewhat patiently for the signal to begin. Does true Love even exist? Or have all the Soul Mates/Twin Flames gone on strike?

In the midst of doing midway through action only to find oneself on the every present hamster wheel spinning fast deep inside a rabbit hole.

Sometimes forgetting what I’m waiting for?  Dialing. Hearing the phone ringing. Robotic voice, “I’m sorry but the number you dialed is no longer in service.

Waiting are armies of creeping vines taking back what was rightfully theirs. Trees with gnarly rooted feet tenderizing the earth in preparation for Monsoon season.

Mindless waiting versus fruitful waiting?  Patience is not my foremost virtue yet she shadows every portion of my life.  Patience is the Sugar Plum Fairy holding a dental drill spike through my jaw. Patience is a shallow grave awaiting surrender. The awkwardness of waiting beats out the waywardness of doing.

The Goddess of Harlem shall Live again and repent her people.

Waiting is a desolate abandoned isle populated with numerous shades and shadows ignorant of each other yet crowded together at the beleaguered rocky shore desperately trying to signal passing ships their screams blown away by a fierce sirocco. No deliverance for them. Harmattan blow strong my hopes and dreams carried away to rise no more.  Dust bowl funeral dirge mourners wailing marches past not even mindful of my existence.  Did the Rapture take place without St. Gabrielle scooping me up with Her multi-colored wings?

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.  Keep to the funky beat. 

There are no rewards, Trophies or medals here only the next phase standing on it’s Laurels.

Stillness. Silence. Breath.

Waiting? Why? I don’t know because Godot never showed up for the Death Angel is always on time.

Our Wait is over so Let’s go to that place called home.

https://youtu.be/x7BeGDZewHs 

 

 

Silver Screen: What is that Sir? I can’t Make it out!


 

 

 

Silver Screen

Take a quote from your favorite movie — there’s the title of your post. Now, write!

 

My Dad’s All Time Favorite movie: Run Silent. Run Deep.

What is that Sir? I can’t Make it out!

Run Silent Run Deep Poster

Run Silent Run Deep (1958)

Unending Grief of the vacant space left by my Dad’s death in May 1995

That’s my heart breaking.

That’s my soul aching.

That’s another soul flitting across the universe awaiting a new storage container for the old one is broken.

A soul crying in the dark for another dying friend and all those who passed before.

A good life wrapped up in beautifully ribbon colored crepe paper.

What is that Sir? I can’t make it out?

One wearing dark glasses obscuring their orbs.   An enigma of its demons. What sins were they running from perhaps we shall never know.

A Wayward Wanderer

The Prodigal Daughter returns.

Why young one, That’s strength, courage, tenacity and the ability to speak Truth to Power.

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One Word Photo Challenge: Film

One Word Photo Challenge: Film

owpc logo 2

Part III: People, Places & Things

If you want to share a literal image of the actual word, do that. But if you’d rather play with word association, post something that reminds you of the specific word, or something you use the word for, do so. It only has to make sense to you. Have fun and keep on photographing!

owpc 2017

This week’s word is Film! Don’t forget to check out Color your World as well, posting daily January – April.

 

Daughters of the Dust Full Movie

Written, Directed and Produced by Julie Dash

At the dawn of the 20th century, a family in the Gullah community of coastal South Carolina — former West African slaves who adopted many of their ancestors’ Yoruba traditions — suffers a generational split. Young Haagar (Kaycee Moore) wants to move to the mainland away from tradition-bound matria… More
Release date: December 27, 1991 (USA)

 

Sorry for the poor quality for better results either rent or buy the movie from an Online source. Perhaps try Netflix or Hulu. You will probably be able to order the film via Amazon.com.

 

Fusion Poetry ~~ Epistle to the Daughters of Luna


Epistle to the Daughters of St. Luna

Amethyst and Garnet fusion dance THE TARANTULA NEBULA  whirling and twirling like  untamed dervishes through tentacles of Gordian knots. Together they trip the light fantasia. Bobbling, lolling, bobbing and weaving.  Swaying…. Praying… Homage to the Great Her.  Flowing through the Magellanic Clouds of Joyful Paradise.

30 Doradus begetter of infinite universes.  Stars kiss. Morph. Join forces into exploding orgasms each populating whipping legs of sown seeds.

Eternal moonshine of the flightless mind.

Dripping fine veils of hosiery over endless galaxies.

Ella Fitzgerald – Stella by Starlight

 

Memoirs of an Evening

Sepia toned Duckbill Platypus saddled with plastic implants blonde Double DD barbie doll. Grecian Urn of pale translucent white blue vein skin. All Hail the bright Neon Orange protector goddess. Astro Nose Noise. Brazilian butt jobs. Collagen plumped Lipppeeesss for days on end.

Below Ugly Toe Jam Drama. It jutted out precariously that if one breathed deep and two-stepped succinctly off it would jump into the hairy precipice, down the cliff and into craggy foreboding Temple ores.

The Metronome calls Cadence in accordance with ancient sweet sirens.

Well bred. Well groomed. Varnished White Mares. Striding the pecking order all vying to be Number #1 Trophy Wife.

 

 

Oh Divine One. Light up the Evening with your Glory.

Sarah Vaughan – Stella by Starlight