writing live

[HarryHill]

*laughing*

6:32

She laughs and fairy doors open;
her musical knock a shock
on the fabric of reality
that irises the gates of hope
sends a Fay greeting
calling from the Aether
come in,
welcome home.

6:40

 

[todski28]

infinite image
funneling back into brains hot-wired
brakes on
burning rubber
waiting
slip the clutch

it slips first
then grips
the tension
worth the
wait,

no thoughts of
controlling
the unleashed
sideways
round the bends

imminent collision

 

[HarryHill]

3:04
..
Oh empty house, bare walls
smiles and laughter missing
sweet beaming faces gone
to the gallery.

I've never felt this alone
the blank space where Blue Man danced
Floration no more a wall flower
waiting for the band
to strike a tune
without instruments to play
My water children gambol
in a far away grotto
while I sit with my bottle
blotto

3:15

 

[butters]

3:04
..
Oh empty house, bare walls
smiles and laughter missing
sweet beaming faces gone
to the gallery.

I've never felt this alone
the blank space where Blue Man danced
Floration no more a wall flower
waiting for the band
to strike a tune
without instruments to play
My water children gambol
in a far away grotto
while I sit with my bottle
blotto

3:15

ah, empty nest
but while you raise your bottle, miss
your grotto'd children, think on this:

those empty walls cry out
a canvas, palette, brush
await the bright, creative flush

 

[HarryHill]

ah, empty nest
but while you raise your bottle, miss
your grotto'd children, think on this:

those empty walls cry out
a canvas, palette, brush
await the bright, creative flush

Smoke from the basement, bugger!
Descend the stairs
open the door to the cold whore of winter
let her suck the cloud out

Adjust the wood, reposition the coals
berate yourself for ignoring
timbers hunger, the forgetfulness of an unbanked fire
Smoke that has the stench of poverty
on clean clothes and flesh.
Pour a fresh cupa; bitch some more,
it always makes you feel better.

 

[butters]

Smoke from the basement, bugger!
Descend the stairs
open the door to the cold whore of winter
let her suck the cloud out

Adjust the wood, reposition the coals
berate yourself for ignoring
timbers hunger, the forgetfulness of an unbanked fire
Smoke that has the stench of poverty
on clean clothes and flesh.
Pour a fresh cupa; bitch some more,
it always makes you feel better.

cold whore of winter is brilliant

 

[HarryHill]

ah, empty nest
but while you raise your bottle, miss
your grotto'd children, think on this:

those empty walls cry out
a canvas, palette, brush
await the bright, creative flush

I was here before and distracted
after my love had raised a point
now I'm returned and captive
to explain my painting career

I've never studied the process
no wait,
not a good place to end or begin
on the whys and wherefores of paint.

I

usually ink the image
or pencil the plans play about
graphite's a grand medium
and ink the bones of Blue Men

plan long, there are usually plenty around
waiting their turn, mass production
as paint dries and imagination gets wet
thinking how all should turn out.

Check fire, still fumes, still fumes
gather your children, 6, and Union/Chosen Mate
8 waiting, pristine under cellophane skin
and the bastard, calling for gesso
to hide it's heritage

where was I; read back and see
the pain of child rearing and know
there's times of holding them closely
times for letting them go
and medias cruel choice of selecting a voice
shall I paint, shall I write, shall I die
in the arms of she who would care what I do
now once again, I reply

I'll paint you a picture love,
two trees, twined in the dawn
red blooms and white in the calicoed light
purple flora bells under a song

words here, words there
no paint between
I'm doomed to write it seems
but would you rather see the fruit of my hands
or the worlds that I find in my dreams?

untimed, but I've been here too long

 

[butters]

begin: 10.00pm

the bones of blue men dance over words that rise from the sand
halfway to meeting the song of the waves as they run uphill
wet imagination's feet while a water-child cups living flame within his hands
and pioneers learn the language of birdsong on the tongues of red-white petals
twining trunks, roots seeking only the touch of another in the blind day
and the sun, always the sun, creates

end: 10.11pm

 

[HarryHill]

begin: 10.00pm

the bones of blue men dance over words that rise from the sand
halfway to meeting the song of the waves as they run uphill
wet imagination's feet while a water-child cups living flame within his hands
and pioneers learn the language of birdsong on the tongues of red-white petals
twining trunks, roots seeking only the touch of another in the blind day
and the sun, always the sun, creates

end: 10.11pm

Damn, butter my heart with words that sing in refrain. 11 minutes !!

 

[butters]

Damn, butter my heart with words that sing in refrain. 11 minutes !!

your words, harry, well most of them- and all taken from your images and one or two others we've shared in dreamtime. didn't know where it was going, just let the words fall and trust others to make sense of it all.

 

[HarryHill]

your words, harry, well most of them- and all taken from your images and one or two others we've shared in dreamtime. didn't know where it was going, just let the words fall and trust others to make sense of it all.

a one word poem...........Reflection..noitcelfeR

 

[butters]

what's this? this dim, strange mood
suspended in ink and daub and charcoaled words
where words are thoughts and images primed to leap
right through the screen
right from a brain
fingertips midwive the pulse pulse pulse of half-forgotten frag
ments ripped and shorn dragged three-quarters blue for lack of
breath and weight of darkened soil upon a head
stones
stones
run a nail on through the happy moss
think
loss
but not the loss of living grief
this someplace feel i feel
unbereaved
and taking up my chalk i mark a tree
a bird's wing taking flight
the bird is me

 

[HarryHill]

what's this? this dim, strange mood
suspended in ink and daub and charcoaled words
where words are thoughts and images primed to leap
right through the screen
right from a brain
fingertips midwive the pulse pulse pulse of half-forgotten frag
ments ripped and shorn dragged three-quarters blue for lack of
breath and weight of darkened soil upon a head
stones
stones
run a nail on through the happy moss
think
loss
but not the loss of living grief
this someplace feel i feel
unbereaved
and taking up my chalk i mark a tree
a bird's wing taking flight
the bird is me

Powerful, might want to sub this one; it rends my heart

 

[HarryHill]

My window of anticipation is cracked,
shards fall
breaking into smaller pieces
letting the cold of insistent winter
chill my soul.
I strip, nude to the force of wind that blows all save the stark realization
this is delightful, and a little scary.

 

[Tsotha]

05:10
I went out into the night
And got myself a sweet kiss
I kept it simple, and I kept it clear
Nothing in here, nothing to miss
What more can I say
No light, no day,
within, without,
No love, not here,
Not there, not anywhere
I went out into the night
And I gave love a poisonous kiss
05:19

 

[Tsotha]

05:24
Hello, December
Please roll on, please let me sleep
Please move on, please move quick
Stay behind, please don't leave
Cover me up, lay me down
Whatever, just please be swift

I put myself in orbit, just for fun
And far away so I could see
A million things that I can't tell you,
Things I can't understand,
Things you won't miss
05:33

 

[Tsotha]

05:37
Build up, build up
A crescendo within you
Dream on, pump your love
With hot, boiling passion, and giving
Smear it with truth, pave it with feeling
Go you hollow thing, you tainted shell of a man
You Neanderthal, you fool, ungentle giant, smoldering feet
Crushing twigs and everything and more beneath like a monster
Build yourself a house of cards, a cave, spend yorself, cave in, just die
Swiftly.
05:43

Edit: I had to. Just had. Please forgive me.

 

[Tsotha]

05:47
If truth sets you free
Why does it feel so cold?
Why does it feel like a knife
Slicing, cutting in,
To the heart of things,
To what is beneath,
And hidden?

If lies are chains,
Why did they feel so comforting?
Why do I feel like lying again,
Disappearing in plain sight
With a million masks for wearing?

Brought out into light, but never clear
These things we say, we can't take away
And once said, they burn up and engrave
Forever and a day more,
Searing white pain,
It's not fair.
05:59

 

[Tsotha]

06:03
Rolling down your veins,
Climbing up to your brain
Little shards of glass
Little shards of fun
Of pain
Makes you laugh, makes you cry
Makes you silly, makes you a star
Flying through the universe
So, so far.
06:04

 

[Tsotha]

06:29
She wakes up to find my merry letter
Which I wrote with love, and care,
Choosing words, choosing the paper,
And perfumed with sweet jasmin,
With thoughts of her, on her, and for her,
Like she deserves, like I should give her.
Except I didn't, and she doesn't.

Mean to my friends, gentle to my enemies.
How much sense does that make?
Fuck, I'm a jerk.
06:31

 

[Tsotha]

06:38
He thought of love like a gentle thing,
Which all people should have,
"All should have some warmth in their lives," he said
He later wept softly, no one saw, no one cared.
A man is a fortress, a sand castle, on an island,
Where a wave comes crashing
Leaving nothing but rubble.
06:42

 

[Tsotha]

06:49
I was a virgin last month,
And now, it seems, I am experienced.
How I wish it was so easy, in life,
To rise so in rank, in heart, in love, in all
I don't even feel like an adult, and it irks me.
06:50

 

[Tsotha]

06:51
Time for breakfast.
Stretch your legs, your arms, your spine,
Your whole body.
Take care of things,
If there are things to be taken care of,
If not, go on,
Open the fridge, eat something, shove it in your mouth,
Like an animal,
Like the big, bad insect thing inside you
Giving you a kickstart
But stop, don't forget the crosswords,
They are important, they keep you capable
To spill words like an idiot.
06:55

 

[Tsotha]

07:02
"Please," I said.
She ran her hand through my hair,
And pulled on it, threw me against the wall,
Put her thighs around me,
Gave me a stare.
"You say please too much, boy," she said.
I'm sorry, I guess.
"You say sorry too much, boy," she said,
"It makes you look weak and insincere."
Well, how about fuck you, then?
07:05

 

[Tsotha]

07:57
I sat there waiting,
At the edge between worlds
Between two, full lives
So far apart, so different.
You made me feel special,
And I cared for you deeply.
I panicked at the thought of losing you
(you weren't mine to begin with).
I longed for your words
Like a child longs for a mother's embrace;
Immersed in trust and understanding,
Feeling so safe and warm.
Expecting things for which I had no right
Asking for things which you could not give
And looking for love never meant for me.
Saying goodbye
Has never been so hard
And so painful.
08:06