PartickI stand, whisper-thin, expectant, In the bustle of the bus-station, And hold my awkward pride in place, With hands, both cold and anxious, Slender fingers, that, come tonight, Will rest on the warmth of your back, Poised, like dancers with no concept Of where to go, or where they’ve been.Partick
And the soft May rain is a relief, An excuse, a concession; I watch the sky, The buildings blackened with experience, Loom up from the wet dark concrete, Silent, imposing and saddened, and I Fret about superficiality, about you, And where you are now, And wh
ThoughtsThere's no sense in the blood-bottomed meadows Sad and pale in the light of the evening skies, And the rusting bicycle spokes stand shattered, little fingers, The bars on the cage of innocence.Thoughts
Oh to taste the aniseed, thick saliva, glorious days In the bent of youth, to race the wind, the message In the bottle, and to catch pepper seeds, taken to lofty flight, On the breath of windless summer nights
Where lies the reasons of breathless fancy, The wonders of childhood gone now, sullied, The rich vibrance of life's threadbare tapestry, Aflame in the depths of a hea
LustThe wicked taste of sultry sunshine, The spilling of dark blood over hot flesh, The malicious aroma of dulled promise, Kept bound too like the stars of old, Curling wood paint, iniquitous pine needles and Nondescript Glasgow streets, grey, In the luminary of faded illusions and dusky clouds,Lust
Shadow dancing in broken dreams
And sinuous, the reds of passion smear,
Oily greasepaint, on turgid pouting mouths, Such a delusion of grandeur, entwined upon Diminishing desires and tender feints, The ache of disbelief, disorientation,
The taste of saline disappointme
HomageScuffed faded maturity, like rich buttery leather, And grace softened figures of speech and simile Bespeak of little justice concerning fluidity of essence, With lithe whispers abounding, like rain in the hollows of gutters, Cold, malleable and comforting in the absence of belief and soHomage
The grey of the sky, columned and churned, too like The folds of heaven, heavy with silken warmth and latent promise Are belligerent truth in fabricated deceit, and falling, now, Like an arrow shower, whickering out of sight, gone, The sounds of dried breath in the dying lungs of lovers
Juggling Act
Adoration
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"I don't do too well with fortune tellers. The last one I went to see, told me I was destined to fall for a guy who flies a lot and likes to wear tights. So I'm just waiting for my cross-dressing pilot to make his landing." - Lois Lane
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Best quote ever: ~BrokenxStars "I R GUNNA TAK PICTUR UF MAI BEWBS 4 TEH ARTZ"
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Love... The Triumph of Imagination over Intelligence
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Best quote ever: ~BrokenxStars "I R GUNNA TAK PICTUR UF MAI BEWBS 4 TEH ARTZ"
a long time ago
how's it going?
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This public service announcement has been brought to you by the letter 'eh'
God is an existentialist.
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Love... The Triumph of Imagination over Intelligence
Draken xxx
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Account name Draken001 is no longer in use.
Happy Holidays!
may all of your wishes and dreams come true.
thank you so much for your support. your support has helped me a lot this past year and added more inspiration to my life to keep on writing.
thank you.
<3 Ivy
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