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Literature Text
from time to time
dimensions fly
into collages
spaceship fuselages
horse-drawn carriages
transported
foreign earths
where Amun-Ra
is still revered
in purple skies
metallic spires
glide by
we slide
past love
past hate
past fear
to get
from there
to here
dimensions fly
into collages
spaceship fuselages
horse-drawn carriages
transported
foreign earths
where Amun-Ra
is still revered
in purple skies
metallic spires
glide by
we slide
past love
past hate
past fear
to get
from there
to here
Literature
Progesterone.
you should ask,
fittingly,
if one could die from bruises
or pressure, sub-
marine and ready to tip
like
an ancient bell-curve.
naseous, I am full
of textbooks, upper-layers of
disgust and
seizures.
but you'll come down south
with me, after our bones
ache and stretch and I
told them, I did, that
all I needed was comfort,
yours --
at night, and I don't
care about doors.
please, please let your
optimism be
true.
Literature
Perfect Contrition
In a proper Catholic church, everything echoes. Any sound uttered within the building bounces of the floor and the walls and the high, vaulted ceilings, so much so that I imagine that they could easily reach the ears of God himself. It's a rather poetic thought, the voices of mere mortals ringing towards Heaven with the help of good acoustics, but that thought's tempered by the fact that it includes every single noise: the coughs of emphysemic old men, the rustling of an impatient young girl's dress, and the taps of even the softest rubber-soled sneakers are no exception. On rainy days like this one, those shoes tend to squeak, which probably
Literature
Being a Writer
On Why Being a Writer is Neither Glamorous nor Exciting
If you watch the blogs and various sites around the internet about writing, you've probably seen at least one list that details a few universal truths about writers, but they all pretty much boil down to several actual truths.
All writers write.
All writers procrastinate.
Writers don't actually write, because we spend all our time doing something else.
This probably explains why, in the dark hours of one of the very last days of NaNoWriMo, I'm sitting here writing this, when my NaNo is sitting in another window with a pathetic 31.8k words.
Will I finish by 11:59pm tomorrow? Probabl
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Actually, it's more like fan poetry, if anything. I found a rough draft of this poem among some papers I was cleaning out, revised it a little, and decided it would be good to upload here. It's based off of vague memories of this sci-fi TV show from the 90's called Sliders. Basically, there were a bunch of people sliding through different dimensions, trying to get back to the Earth they once knew. In one episode, there was one Earth that was very similar to ours, but instead of having a blue sky, it had a purple one. And I'm certain there was an episode that involved ancient Egyptian gods. But it's not like it refers to particular characters or situations they would get into, so it's not fan fiction in that sense. Yet the range of options in the poetry category don't quite encompass something like this. 
© 2011 - 2024 kajigoddess
Comments5
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this has a very sci-fi/cyberpunk vibe to it that I dig.
great rhythmic language too.
great rhythmic language too.