Feel the drug of your personaI never reached the supernova
Miss_Europadiscodancer
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Name: Meredith
Birthday: 12/20/1990
Gender: Female


Interests: Weird thumbs, unparalleled symbolism (I'd also like to say that the Occupation and Industry options can be configured to create several excellent innuendos.)
Expertise: Biting my nails, organizing my top desk drawer
Occupation: Other
Industry: Entertainment


Message: message me
Website: visit my website
AIM: alwaysstarchild


Member Since: 5/1/2005

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Saturday, September 30, 2006

Currently Listening
A Sun Came
By Sufjan Stevens
see related



Believe it or not, this was composed on Albright's smartboard. What?


Saturday, December 10, 2005

Currently Listening
Making Beds in a Burning House
By Troubled Hubble
see related
I came up with this while in the bath. Don't know who put drugs in the water supply. Oh wait, was probably T.S. Eliot. (laughs)

10 December
come quickly, my lord waistcoat, my lad
sit beside me, breathe my air
you take this hinge
i have the keyhole and we will move on sixes.

oh look now, here comes miss marmalade
does she not look ravishing
mincing across the ceiling
what's that?
floors, no stop being pretentious
you know full well ladies in red are not fit to walk on walls.
there she goes, boy, your fault, see what you have done?
The key is rusty, watch it crumble, leave me now
Wherefore, run back to your lavish mama
curl in rustling taffeta
we will be alone.

no, no please
my boy, we shall speak of the plight of the major
don't go
he is torn between imagene
crystalline, perfect, impersonal, luster burning wounds in his top hat
rather run to drip-dry
madame fry, beloved, welcome, dead.

now look at me, my boy
look at my tears, look what you did, put these bloody holes
in that miss marmalade
i thought her hair was blonde but I knew you were jealous
no
no please
no come back
forgot the hinges
forgot your ceiling
lad?
don't do this to me. I remember your mother
she reminded me of pears
chairs, was it? you always must be right.
wooden or steel, I cannot place it, not so different in the end.
take my hand, burned toast, melt to ashes next to me
Boy, I can't hear you. not your voice nor your careful step
It's time to go.
I'll leave the key.


Thursday, November 24, 2005

Currently Reading
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
By Ken Kesey
see related
This cannot compare to Dylan's brilliance. This poem is my favorite. Ever.

24 Nov 2005. 12:58.
Verbatim
 soft coldwarm unfamiliarity presses hard
 untrained fingers spiral slowly, traversing long icy lengths away
 in the frigid expectant air
tears fall fast, stain forced naked beauty, spotted silk
 self-inflicted salty smile, still starry staring eyes
 a bloody kiss, deep wound, cold embrace.
No. veiled in pomp
 pretending against all disappointment
 it is metallic arms that grasp
 my own pen I kiss with such passion
 such anguish
profound awakening, this
 love, my open hand rests freely
 empty of all and cupping the dripdrip
steady fall from my mouth, my fingers
 sieve
 down,catching you my daydream deviation
 word for word


Sunday, November 13, 2005

Currently Reading
Western Civilization : A Brief History, Comprehensive Edition (with InfoTrac)
By Jackson J. Spielvogel
see related
Meh. These are all bad. I've been too restrained to write anything particularly worthwhile.

Not dated
for just a minute, staring back into the unblinking,
smug lemon pursed cherry lips
snub nose wrinkled and pulled-wide innocent eyes
sparkle sparkle.
cogs spin drive perpetual machine
faster building heat
scream loud warnings, myself alone, please slow the runaway
stop
turn away
la presidente.
(hmm. she made me angry. This poem is terrible, but I wrote it in such a fury, i had to post it)

9.3
Fragment...
frankly I don't care if it flies
just launch it, please
send it off into space
swallow it gulp and never tell

11.7
boreas
empty touch, false breeze dances cold across her face
dangling fingers softly, slowly
touch the other side where he screams
hot breath lingers, make it stop
she cannot, sweet deluded poison creeps
long icy fingers grasp fast
slide swiftly


Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Currently Listening
Seven Swans
By Sufjan Stevens
see related

I'm expecting to maybe write some more tonight: I write best in terrible constant palpitation about to cry moods. Ughhhhh.


10.5

Science claims in pomp that there exists negativity

Of everything?

Of everything.

Keep existing your dying opposite, darkness devours their thriving void.

Regenerate, disintegrate, blood, sweat, tears.

Oh, no, Miss.

You mustn’t extrapolate so.

Twitchy white beckoning arms wish the line

Extending will.

 

Begin

Unsheathe it, shining. Please, I beg you.

Drive into me your broken glass soul. Thank you.

It’s cold here, burning ice.

Scalding, long fingers scratch freezing

No thanks, bright entity strides assured, fast.

Grinning, she approaches.

Oh, it moves fast. Dare it to break.



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