Sometimes I hold my breath
To slow my heartbeat
To see it struggle, beating slower and slower
Like a bird against a window
Tired...
But it never dies out just yet
Too stubborn
Those beats
That beat
For him.
And he is deaf.
And I find myself gasping for air
For me.
And I think
Such a shame
I couldn’t stop that heart from beating
But I will try again tomorrow
Maybe I will succeed
To love myself
As much
As I need that fucking air...
My heart is feathered scared Is breathing so difficult that you have to birth each one remembering the ins and outs? Heaving all that love out for no one to clasp Heave it. Out. The feathers preen the heart is shedding its feelings. Releases one wing then the other wing. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. As you bleed out your heart gets lighter as you cry out your tears dry faster. In that bubble of remorse, sits a young child, alone. Punished, beaten up With a blanket inherited from God, it's old, it's clean, it's pristine. it smells of childhood comfort and sisterly hugs. It wraps the blanket tight, and what do you know, it turns into perfectly adapted wings. Ascending.
Exercise
flexing my mind
one thought at a time.
I stretch - it won't bend
I think - it won't send
I close - it pours through
I lie - comes out truth.
Exercise
flexing my heart
per beat in/ beat out.
My minions, my cells
at my sign
you'll all align and feel
something pure
something.
Miroase a frunze de vara
imprastiate pe jos
calcate in picioare
cu toamna.
Si-mi plang un pescarus
ce mi-a murit subit
cu capu-n jos
si ochii-n sus
intepeniti in cer.
S-a dus, al meu fulg,
incet,
ca o lebada.
-----------
Smells like summer leaves,
spread on the ground,
trampled by autumn.
I mourn my seagull
who died all of a sudden
with his head bowed down,
and his eyes reaching up,
buried in the sky.
He went, my little feather,
slowly,
like a swan.
A ball of fur looks at me
a bag of crazy looks back at it.
Now what?
Beautiful spark of God,
You recognize what I can't.
Guiding my hand to be
gentle, pure and free of greed,
trusting in me with all you've got.
I'm all you've got,
you're all I've got,
and there's nothing wrong with that.
At ease, on a top of a hill,
with breeze through my hair,
and sunshine kissed ears,
I sit and you sit beside me,
a pet and its human.
that ball of fur looks at me,
a bag of crazy smiles back at it.
I am a splatter on a platter
your arms are spoons and forks
and sometimes knives.
I am the splatter on the platter,
the after taste, the bread, the crumbs,
all given in, bowed head, spread arms.
That drip, where all the meat
used to weave tendons and muscles
and bones. Loose.
I am that drip,
all concentrated soup
of me-juice.
I am the splatter on the silver platter,
a red dot into a silver sea,
I stretch and conquer and want more,
to be much more than just a splatter on a platter
forgotten on the shelf,
with its soul turned on;
when you're not home.
I need to replace anger with patience.
Red with air.
I need to stop releasing thoughts and words,
instead just count to 10
about 10 thousand times.
That veil that anger weaves
with poisonous veins
bad blood
in inbetweens,
I need a sword for it,
the kind that writes with ink.
So, in the end,
I just need peace.
1...2...3...
A splinter and its tree,
were walking down the dusk,
they turned the grains of sand
and turned them into dust.
A splinter and its tree,
Could, were, are, you and me,
I walk besides, you walk besides,
Like parallels, two skinny lines,
We mark the earth and earth don't mind,
Like parallels,
two lines.
A splinter and its tree,
decide to hug and melt and mend,
what was still mending free,
The splinter held on tight
to tree, its leaves, its seed,
but seasons came and went,
and splinter did not melt.
It fell onto the ground,
got rained upon and stomped,
with bootless foot and toe,
into the grassy earth,
into the pitless loath.
Sometimes I hold my breath
To slow my heartbeat
To see it struggle, beating slower and slower
Like a bird against a window
Tired...
But it never dies out just yet
Too stubborn
Those beats
That beat
For him.
And he is deaf.
And I find myself gasping for air
For me.
And I think
Such a shame
I couldn’t stop that heart from beating
But I will try again tomorrow
Maybe I will succeed
To love myself
As much
As I need that fucking air...
My heart is feathered scared Is breathing so difficult that you have to birth each one remembering the ins and outs? Heaving all that love out for no one to clasp Heave it. Out. The feathers preen the heart is shedding its feelings. Releases one wing then the other wing. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. As you bleed out your heart gets lighter as you cry out your tears dry faster. In that bubble of remorse, sits a young child, alone. Punished, beaten up With a blanket inherited from God, it's old, it's clean, it's pristine. it smells of childhood comfort and sisterly hugs. It wraps the blanket tight, and what do you know, it turns into perfectly adapted wings. Ascending.
Exercise
flexing my mind
one thought at a time.
I stretch - it won't bend
I think - it won't send
I close - it pours through
I lie - comes out truth.
Exercise
flexing my heart
per beat in/ beat out.
My minions, my cells
at my sign
you'll all align and feel
something pure
something.
Miroase a frunze de vara
imprastiate pe jos
calcate in picioare
cu toamna.
Si-mi plang un pescarus
ce mi-a murit subit
cu capu-n jos
si ochii-n sus
intepeniti in cer.
S-a dus, al meu fulg,
incet,
ca o lebada.
-----------
Smells like summer leaves,
spread on the ground,
trampled by autumn.
I mourn my seagull
who died all of a sudden
with his head bowed down,
and his eyes reaching up,
buried in the sky.
He went, my little feather,
slowly,
like a swan.
A ball of fur looks at me
a bag of crazy looks back at it.
Now what?
Beautiful spark of God,
You recognize what I can't.
Guiding my hand to be
gentle, pure and free of greed,
trusting in me with all you've got.
I'm all you've got,
you're all I've got,
and there's nothing wrong with that.
At ease, on a top of a hill,
with breeze through my hair,
and sunshine kissed ears,
I sit and you sit beside me,
a pet and its human.
that ball of fur looks at me,
a bag of crazy smiles back at it.
I am a splatter on a platter
your arms are spoons and forks
and sometimes knives.
I am the splatter on the platter,
the after taste, the bread, the crumbs,
all given in, bowed head, spread arms.
That drip, where all the meat
used to weave tendons and muscles
and bones. Loose.
I am that drip,
all concentrated soup
of me-juice.
I am the splatter on the silver platter,
a red dot into a silver sea,
I stretch and conquer and want more,
to be much more than just a splatter on a platter
forgotten on the shelf,
with its soul turned on;
when you're not home.
I need to replace anger with patience.
Red with air.
I need to stop releasing thoughts and words,
instead just count to 10
about 10 thousand times.
That veil that anger weaves
with poisonous veins
bad blood
in inbetweens,
I need a sword for it,
the kind that writes with ink.
So, in the end,
I just need peace.
1...2...3...
A splinter and its tree,
were walking down the dusk,
they turned the grains of sand
and turned them into dust.
A splinter and its tree,
Could, were, are, you and me,
I walk besides, you walk besides,
Like parallels, two skinny lines,
We mark the earth and earth don't mind,
Like parallels,
two lines.
A splinter and its tree,
decide to hug and melt and mend,
what was still mending free,
The splinter held on tight
to tree, its leaves, its seed,
but seasons came and went,
and splinter did not melt.
It fell onto the ground,
got rained upon and stomped,
with bootless foot and toe,
into the grassy earth,
into the pitless loath.
My heart is feathered scared Is breathing so difficult that you have to birth each one remembering the ins and outs? Heaving all that love out for no one to clasp Heave it. Out. The feathers preen the heart is shedding its feelings. Releases one wing then the other wing. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. As you bleed out your heart gets lighter as you cry out your tears dry faster. In that bubble of remorse, sits a young child, alone. Punished, beaten up With a blanket inherited from God, it's old, it's clean, it's pristine. it smells of childhood comfort and sisterly hugs. It wraps the blanket tight, and what do you know, it turns into perfectly adapted wings. Ascending.
cut me.
press your metal into my spine.
thread it gracefully
along my insides and out
the nape of my neck.
twirl it gently (don't
hurt yourself) around my skin.
boast proudly, how you shaped me,
how you spun me in your arms,
how you affixed my gaze upright...
how you made me look so perfect
while i slowly turned and died.
Sometimes a heart just wants to love by flinx, literature
Literature
Sometimes a heart just wants to love
Sometimes
In the stillness of the night that is mine alone
There is a beating space inside my chest that wants.
Not wanting gold
or silver
or silk robes to throw around my shoulders
Not seeking rubies royal
or delicately carved diamonds
or emeralds soaked in seaweed green
Not vying for position
or stature
or prestige
Not asking for anything money can buy.
It beats, on nights like these, just hoping and wanting
to love.
Current Residence: NLaLaLand Favourite genre of music: OST Favourite style of art: Original MP3 player of choice: ipod nano black Shell of choice: Turtle Skin of choice: Whiter shade of pale Favourite cartoon character: Buggs Bunny, Pepe le Pew, Stewie Griffin Personal Quote: If I smile, isn't always for a good cause :)
Farewell, Mr. J.D. Salinger! Thank you for being true to yourself, up to the very end.
God bless you!
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/29/books/29salinger.html