Poetry – Communication – a poem to the expansion of minds that takes place when we talk and listen to each other. — Opher’s World

Poetry – Communication – a poem to the expansion of minds that takes place when we talk and listen to each other. There is nothing better than a debate, discussion and argument between friends as we pierce the truth of all we know. For only in the sharing, thinking through and weighing up can we… Read More Poetry – Communication – a poem to the expansion of minds that takes place when we talk and listen to each other. — Opher’s World

she.

she. “Enemy Spirits, Come to finish my fate Nothing you do Can cause me to dissipate I am forever I am EVER, For and Ever I am Always, Now and Then I am of the gods My gods, your gods and theirs Make mincemeat of your decisions Deal you heartbreak, make u have care She’s… Read More she.

the use for veils.

  Up a staircase Winding round I say nothing Eyes Wide Down Powdered footsteps Open like gravel road U say nothing No breaking the moment’s hold Asbestos powdercase Eyelashes by Mold We touch fingertips Sudden. Bold. Crunchy black taffeta Shiny Patent Waste Bodies; barely bent! Still not visible-Our Haste In & Out, Up & Down… Read More the use for veils.

bloodlust.

      I want your blood Like I want your sex I wish we’d fuck Like we never met I want your taste Copper-burnt but sweet I want your brains Tongue inside your meat Spread it ‘round like goo Dripping from the tip Lap it up, all fours! Yeah I am that bitch This… Read More bloodlust.

The Disconnect

“The source is within, so there is no need for seeking validation indiscriminately or masochistically from the outside, nor for trying to make the environment friendly in order to get support, nor for appeasing others for reward.” – from the chapter ‘Suffering & Standing Separate,’ via the text Descent to the Goddess: A Way of… Read More The Disconnect

Private Life

In the Darkness of beginning night, The confusion of what should be, I gave him my little black heart, Then I gave him my little jewel; perfection like one from Tiffanys! When alone now, I can hear his voice When alone I can feel his touch His perfume comes out of my throat His decorum… Read More Private Life

Les Amants des Morte

*disclaimer – naughty words and heavy sexual connotation; also, an original poem from me to an ex lover* Everytime we fuck, I die, Lovers of Death, you and I Make-believers in fate, you and me Troublemakers connected; destiny! Little Death, Oxycontin, Dopamine When together, even the Heavens stop for our scene, Memnoch the Devil, Dionysis… Read More Les Amants des Morte

The 10yr anniversary of her death was this past August…many will only remember her records and music videos, but i’ll always ever remember her as the Dark Goddess personified, dancing to the sounds of the depths of this very earth. Also this is just bitchin, when it comes to reminiscing on failed love. #RIP Aaliyah… Read More

Ways to be a writer

Originally posted on Rachel A. M.:
In writing, there are always new goals to strive toward. There are also always new ways to feel less than. I’m not a real writer if I’m only writing for work. I’m not a real writer if I’m writing genre fiction, or if I’m writing flash fiction. I’m not…

Game Over

Originally posted on Blog de Leonel Licea:
Picture by me L. Licea Game Over (Español) En el fondo de la calle se perdía el sonido de sus pasos. No le quedaba mucho tiempo para alcanzar su objetivo y, lo peor, de ello dependía su muerte. Quien me lee pensará que estoy loco: ¿puede alguien correr…

Woke Men, Stop Shitting On Women by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir —

Woke Man is often a Leader of some kind, someone Well Respected for his Work in some sort of Important Progressive Cause. Woke Man may, understandably, think pretty Highly of himself. He’s got quite a Clever Sense of Humor, you see. He’s got Helpful Insights and Wise Advice. He is Compassionate and Committed to Justice. […]… Read More Woke Men, Stop Shitting On Women by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir —

Thorne Moors

Originally posted on The Halt:
Only in stopping can I see the blades turning above the strip farms. I blink out the frequency, one eye shuttered and released. On Saturday 31 August, I’ll be leading a walk along the Stainforth and Keadby canal to the eastern edge of South Yorkshire, taking in the rich, varied…