Throughout

I cast my soul across the room.
It skitters like marbles,
across the stone tile.
Clacks and pings.

A slender thread of gossamer
seals my hope.

Do you see me?
Do you feel me?

I am an electric passage
in a moldy book, carefully placed.
Discover shredded tin upon your tongue.
Feel the angel’s breath upon your shackled heart.

A muffled rip
and your heart casts dusty specks
throughout a room lit slantly with lemon sun.

This is yours.
This is all of you.
And I am as you are.

The keepers of the wind beckon my return.

Return

Happy is the man!
Content is the fire
that swells
within a torrid heart.

Brief is our dance
with an ephemeral gasp.
Crowded, our thoughts,
with a deluge of fearsome
longings.

Twist off.
Sheared and shorn
like a slaughtered lamb.

Dream of collated light
through a broken canopy.
Warm sighs.

Whispy drafts of her forlorn cares,
amplified
by a roiling beckoning
of fractured heart and vacant dreams.

Having streamed her anger
like a bitter sap,
I recoil at the vapid sting
which dresses my mouth
like a ruby curse.

An alabaster prison.
A darkened glimpse.
A broken longing.
A slender curve torn by
a passing glance.

Stay.

Visage

Visage of a gristled slab,
directed flesh caught
within polished stone.

Muted scrawls vanquish
a broken desire.
Feet scrape across raspy planks
towards a speckled dawn.

I long for a torpid desire,
a creaking, throaty moan,
the quivering trees my only witness.

Bless the upward gaze,
the furtive longing,
the silent destiny.

Stuff

I have taken on a part time job. It’s not out of necessity, for which I am extremely thankful, but because taking it on is: one; related to the current field I am in and, two; will help me to be better at my primary job, so it’s basically a win-win plus I earn some extra bank.

Anyway, the point is, I most likely will not be visiting all my usual blogging homies as regularly as I used to which is pretty lame because I really look forward to seeing what everyone creates. The take-away is it’s nothing personal. Cheers!

I’m writing for you too, spammers

“This is actually however one more manual that’s accessible for watching online completely free as well
as circulated by means of the Creative Commons certificate.”

–Tell me more!

“Yet throughout the years, they dn’t give only free solution but likewise customer assistance.”

I will be sure to use they next time I need likewise customer assistance

“There is actually likewise Scrape, an MIT
task that permits youngsters to schedule their very own accounts and
games aesthetically”

I am, sadly, well beyond “youngster” but I’m flattered! I feel that I am a very aesthetic scheduler though.

“I locate that easy to use as well as would place this someplace in between a Site Home builder and an enhanced CMS.”

I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.

“Some of the best stimulating things about being
actually a language learner in the age of the
Net is that sources could be updated consistently.”

That’s a solid point.

“In order to get to the cost-free music mp3 on iTunes, you’ll must open up iTunes and also click iTunes Store on the left-hand side.”

I’ve been clicking on the right hand side for years…no wonder it never worked.

“Our team are actually providing you the best labels as well as small summary of leading web sites which you could refer for
addressing all your Coffee associated inquiries.”

Most of my inquiries are bourbon associated, but thanks.

“This internet site is a great mix of stunning women, motivational quotes and images, and
various other commonly incredible images for guys.”

Someone should tell the porn industry

“Prospects can receive a primary leg up, having said
that, when they discover the right resources to make use of
for their hunt.”

It is deer season. Is that what you’re talking about?!

Harvester’s Journal

My name is Kylie and I’m a Harvester. I collect people’s thoughts as one would ceramic penguins. The only difference is I don’t place them on a pressboard shelf somewhere. Instead, they end up in the local Collector where they’re sorted. If they’re good ones–and I always pick good ones, well, mostly anyway–they are picked out by the Handlers. To date, I have 42 hit songs, three nine figure movies and two successful military campaigns.

I sometimes think of all the people out there who had these great ideas and wonder what would of become of them if they were the ones who marketed them, packaged them, sold them. They can’t though. They don’t have the means. It’s sad, but it’s the truth. Instead, I pluck them out. Ripe fruit.

I could always read minds. My first credible memory was from when I was ten months old. I could sense that my mom was going to leave my dad. I didn’t understand at the time but now I know it was because he was a drunk. And he was. Haven’t seen him in twenty years and I don’t want to now. I probed for him once but his mind was silent which usually means they’re dead. Oh well. Another worthless shit gone.

Some think that reading minds would be a great gift, but it’s not. Not at all. If most people knew what others were thinking about them, the world would be in more chaos than it already is. I spend most of my time in the Chrysalis, the quiet room. It’s the only place where the voices stop. Before I was tapped by the Collective, pills and booze were my chrysalis of choice.

There are about fifteen of us Harvesters. I say, about, because we’ve never met each other; our Handlers won’t allow it. I don’t think we can sense other Harvesters because I’ve tried multiple times. But, I know they’re out there. Over the years, I’ve written down their names. The Handlers are smart but they can’t read minds like we can and their thoughts are unguarded from time to time.

Oh shit, gotta go. Where is it? Arkansas. Yep, I think I just caught Taylor Swift’s next hit.

Buried in posts

WordPress changed stuff around again. The posting interface is different and the preview doesn’t work…anyway.

I follow too many bloggers on WordPress. I don’t say that as if it’s a bad thing but an unhappy consequence of this fidelity is that many of my favorite posters get buried, particularly if I don’t check in for a few days. Not to imply the obvious, namely that some are not my favorites. That’s not the case because I’m very selective about whom I choose to follow. There are so many great writers! But what happens is posts disappear into the aether before I get a chance to read them and it’s an aggravation to scroll down ad infinitum.

Anyway, my point is, if I haven’t stopped by your blog in a while, it’s not deliberate. This implies, rather egocentrically perhaps, that my presence has been missed in the first place which may or may not be the case. I’ll do what I can to reconcile.