Dedicated to the beautiful hearts smiling & free; also to the beautiful hearts still longing. Voyeurs & well-wishers always welcome.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Today I will stop wishing for summer and simply love the snow.
2 comments:
Anonymous
said...
Here's my current piece of fiction dawnie-girl...hope my contirbution to dawn-ville adds to the property value because usually i just create a ghetto:
I met a woman who knew nothing: she taught me everything I know. But there was a misallocation of funds and feelings, and gravity held me down. I rather be hated in infamy, than loved in anonymity. Living room philosophy and barroom psychology are only useful to wax poetical and wane theoretical. So she says she KNOWS ME as she edges closer…I say what’s there to know…she repeats, that she KNOWS ME…flash forward…I ask if there’s anything to drink in her fridge? She hesitates, because sleeping with strangers is fine but sharing your juice is TOO intimate. I stand in the kitchen wanting to leave, wondering what excuse I can use.
I have none, So I am stuck here, Writing haikus.
Japanese poetry has saved me, many a time. But don’t let haiku’s fool you because size matters and all the girls want taiku’s, there just too polite to say anything. And I’m just too polite too care. Konichiwa, mother f#$%!@rs!
Thanks for the addition! Glad to see your creative juices are once again flowing like choclolate fountains. I would double check the definition of Haiku if I were you though... ;)
2 comments:
Here's my current piece of fiction dawnie-girl...hope my contirbution to dawn-ville adds to the property value because usually i just create a ghetto:
I met a woman who knew nothing: she taught me everything I know. But there was a misallocation of funds and feelings, and gravity held me down. I rather be hated in infamy, than loved in anonymity. Living room philosophy and barroom psychology are only useful to wax poetical and wane theoretical. So she says she KNOWS ME as she edges closer…I say what’s there to know…she repeats, that she KNOWS ME…flash forward…I ask if there’s anything to drink in her fridge? She hesitates, because sleeping with strangers is fine but sharing your juice is TOO intimate. I stand in the kitchen wanting to leave, wondering what excuse I can use.
I have none,
So I am stuck here,
Writing haikus.
Japanese poetry has saved me, many a time. But don’t let haiku’s fool you because size matters and all the girls want taiku’s, there just too polite to say
anything. And I’m just too polite too care. Konichiwa, mother f#$%!@rs!
Thanks for the addition! Glad to see your creative juices are once again flowing like choclolate fountains. I would double check the definition of Haiku if I were you though... ;)
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