~spysays

I still smell like a rose

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About Me Member General Writer spysaysMale/Botswana

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Shapes of Ages

The type took true shape inside time so long ago, In my head, a seed of text begins sprouting to grow, From air words picked two by two 'till stanzas appeared, Scribbled on canvas was a fear for classification, but now I stand style cleared,
Writing 'till the dark flirts, Thinking about a bulb, Trawling books full of word, Telling you what I heard,
Now I wish I could just let go, take pen to paper like the last time together, How they flowed, and churned, then chimed with basic rhyme on basic structure, When did blue dye become mathematics and science in barely a moment

Newest

The Jackaljumping into a puddle as deep as dreams, black, stitched with glass shards, smashing it’s surface from a hundred feet, falling in, searching for my xanadu, slip and slide into a sleepy snooze, with fiery, icy splashes setting around me.
above, through the mottled skin, stretches the sky, colour bent, sky setup in every kind of deep pink, trees climb up my arms, leaves stained mahogany, grass greener than a song bird’s whisper, I'm dizzy, awakened by the sound of a jackal,
“follow me” said he
with me in disbelief I just followed mea The Jackal
by ~spysays

Spinning WebsSpun a web between a lunar eclipse
    and the evening’s stretching shadows, Concrete meadows thump mellow
    below a thousand foot trodden prison paths, Beating trails ants would elate to,
    cutting paths antelope would bow a head at, Out to catch raised neck hairs with a simple pinch
    of fresh air. Foxes will always figure out Easy ways to fill their bellies. Bring out your prejudices,
    then fit them into whatever vices remain. We can make a family from reality by Spinning Webs
by ~spysays

A Story's LustJust another story's lust, Laden bare behind, Just another story crushed, Between our broken minds,
Simple, torn, words crushed flat, Blazing, while denied their time, Simple, burnt, sparks doused out, Skipped by ignoring eyes,
What did the verbs ever do? Left as dirty orphans. What couldn't the nouns have proved? Now enclosed in coffins.
Rhetoric lies lifeless, murdered, A blunt object fallen, Dropped by politicians and surgeons, A porcelain now calling,
The sentences' sentence, forgotten, Bold points now rounded A Story's Lust
by ~spysays

Spring GlucoseGlucose Gelatin Glycerin. Plants start to spread their pollen, Hearts begin harp halo strumming.
Fluoride Fructose Formal-hydride. Time to tan, make up, an work out, Buds birth's in celebrated flower rehearsal.
Oscars Oatmeal Orange-rinds. Writers write in park bench light, Artists create in bulk beside lines.
Mayonnaise Monet Monuments. Days stay around in delayed fulfillment, The grass is golden green, look, go feel it.
Caffeine Cantonese Courage. Its picturesque, quick start a sketch, With paper in ivory, an pens in dark ink. &nb Spring Glucose
by ~spysays

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Random Favourites

Elastic Bands and Ice CreamThe same noise could be achieved with an empty ice cream tub and elastic bands that the postman had dropped but it wouldn’t be quite the same

the clatter from plucked strings is forever controlled by you

but even with practice and perfected technique it’ll never mimic an acoustic
of real oak or metallic that forever echo masterpiece beneath trained f Elastic Bands and Ice Cream
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London Streetsin all the puddles millions of ripples the umbrella flies away London Streets
by ~blue-strawberry

Tragic Death of a Dog
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A Kind Stranger's Tattoo
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*wesleyJ

Devious Journal Entry

Journal Entry: Fri May 23, 2008, 12:56 AM

I once heard a story of a woman who worked in a hospital. Everyday she worked. Everyday she saw a lady in the waiting room, writing her book. She would write everday. All day, and one day it turned out she was just writing pages and pages of O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Why do you write?

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Devious Info

Favourite poet or writer: TBC and until that time ThinXx = do your self a favour: www.wesleyj.devianart.com
Tools of the Trade: pen.paper.keys.dictionary.encyclopedia.poetic device.boredom.creation.pre-talent obsession.