edgarallenfrog: (pissed off)
Free clinic fun:

"It says here in your chart that you're a Christian...oh, it says you go to St. Andrew's. Well, let me ask you, if you go to St. Andrews, how do you know you're going to go to heaven?" ACTUAL QUOTE OMG OMG OMG.

o.0"

Further: THERAPY DOES NOT WORK FOR EVERYONE YOU STUPID FUCKS WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?

*writes down and staples it to foreheads*

Talk about being tired of living and scared of drying. I'm emotionally, physically, and spiritually exhausted, yet I keep going, because...well, what else is there?

At least Langston Hughes understands.

I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn't,
So I jumped in and sank.

I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn't a-been so cold
I might've sunk and died.

But it was Cold in that water! It was cold!

I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.

I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn't a-been so high
I might've jumped and died.

But it was High up there! It was high!

So since I'm still here livin',
I guess I will live on.
I could've died for love--
But for livin' I was born

Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry--
I'll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.

Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (Default)
When you see this, post your favorite poem.

You do realize that asking an English major to pick just ONE favorite poem results in much weeping and gnashing of teeth, right?

Bastards.

*picks one poem at random*

So Penseroso

Come, megrims, mollygrubs and collywobbles!
Come, gloom that limps and misery that hobbles!
Come also, most exquisite meloncholiage,
As dank and decadent as November foliage!
I crave to shudder in your moist embrace,
To feel your oystery fingers on my face.
This is my hour of sadness and soulfulness,
and cursed be he who dissipates my dolefulness.
I do not desire to be cheered,
I desire to retire, I am thinking of growing a beard.
A sorrowful beard with a mournful, dolorous hue in it,
with ashes and glue in it.
I want to be drunk with despair,
I want to caress my care.
I do not wish to be blithe,
I wish to recoil and writhe.
I will revel in cosmic woe,
and I want my woe to show.
This is the morbid moment,
this is the ebony hour.
Aroint thee, sweetness and light!
I want to be dark and sour!
Away with the bird that twitters!
All that glitters is jitters!
Roses, roses are gray,
Violets cry Boo! and frighten me.
Sugar is stimulating,
and people conspire to brighten me.
Go hence, people, go hence!
Go sit on a picket fence!
Go gargle with mineral oil,
Go out and develop a boil!
Melancholy is what I brag and boast of,
Melancholy I plan to make the most of.
You beaming optimists shall not destroy it,
But while I am at it, I intend to enjoy it.
Go, people, stuff your mouths with soap,
and remember, please, that when I mope, I mope!
~Ogden Nash

I'm an egotistical bitch, so how about I also post my favorite poem that I have ever written? Even that is going to be hard. Let's see.

Chance of Rain


Trying to learn to like the cold.
Because I'm always
cold.
So I might as well get used to it.
Right?
And find something I love
in something I hate?
Isn't that the way to go?
I don't even remember why
I hate it
anymore.
It's been a part of me so long.
The cold
I'm trying to learn to like
(to love).
Trying to learn to touch
to feel
the distant things I cannot reach
a million miles away
under my skin
in my blood
my bones
my marrow
me.

So here I sit
(in this chair
in this house
that isn't home)
an empty shell longing
to be filled
with something more than
me.
Trying to think of something
else that I could
be.
I miss the feeling
I miss the flood
The rain, the pain, the tears, the blood
the bones, the marrow
me.
Reaching out
into the dark
I find something there to touch
to feel.
I wrap the blanket
tightly
and try to remember
what it feels like
to be warm.

This was just going to be the meme, but right before I hit post, I realized I should tell you all what's been going on, so for those who want to read a rambling rant, here goes )
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (other hot guy)
Mirror mirror on the wall
What's the gayest film of all?
"Dead Silence is" you say with glee
Don't watch it, folks, unless it's free
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (accepted)
Yes, Like a bad Myspace meme, I some bearing threats.

Look Ma, I Can Write! )

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Somehow, I've become a prolific little writer person. Perhaps the cranky bitch spirit that kept me alive through my teenage years, fueled by the poems and stories I wrote, is alive in me again. Because in the past week I've written a song (Did I tell you guys about that? I don't remember...that band I keep telling you to check out, Connaissance, I wrote the lyrics to their newest song...none of the music, but those words are mine and they're using them, and that...yeah, that really did something to me. I wouldn't say it ignited a spark because there's no sparkage, but there's definitely a tingle that was absent before that's somehow propelling me along like never before) and anyway, I wrote that, and I wrote that "Nobody's Home" song last night (which I think everyone hated, I don't know, but I wrote it just the same) and then I wrote a page for my novel and a page for my other novel that I haven't worked on in years, and I wrote this short story...and they're not Pulitzer prizewinners or anything, I don't delude myself, but I think they have a lot of merit just the same.

Here's the Connaissance Song, in Case I Didn't Share It )

And anyway...I'm spooging all over my journal again because somehow I'm writing again. And it's a good thing. The writing, it kills me sometimes, but then it brings me back to life again. And I need it.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (lickable)
Picture of my Pussy )

And check out my song, posted here. In fact, click and check out whatever I post here for you! You don't have to like it, just give it your attention for a bit (you might be surprised at the entertaining things I can dig up on the internet and you might find some music or movies to check out...if nothing else, you'll waste precious moments of your day when you could have been doing laundry or studying! Isn't procrastinating fun?!)

Poemetry

Jul. 15th, 2007 01:54 am
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (accepted)
I Write the Songs the World Sings )

Tonight is the evil depressing night from hell. For just about everyone, it would seem.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (wordy)
Behold! My DVD collection: http://www.dvdspot.com/member=edwardnortonfan

And all this talk about the evil that men do and small groups of committed people (or people who should be committed) changing the world reminded me of this poem, by the great Cindy Gregerson:

"For Good Men to do Nothing"

When we began so long ago
a nation of our own
things were made to last for years
to keep- to have- to hold
now we toss our craftsmanship
along our man-made roads
and trash our enviroment
like we disregard our old
our children are in foster homes
their parents just don't care
violence happens day- to -day
and we just stop and stare
the preacher says "the end is near
this earth can't take much more"
then walks away from wife and kids
he's sleeping with a whore
nothing left to have to hold
nothing left to keep
nightmares happen in the day
because the good men sleep

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May 2009

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