When I was a kid I used to write "Driven By The Moon I will Shake This Earth At least Once" on just about everything. So, I've been working on the shaking part ever since. I am an installation/fiber artist who also likes to write. These are things I have written through out the years, based on my experiences. Some take shape of poems, others are journal entries and many are side notes in free form expression. Sometimes I like to put a bunch of various words on pieces of paper place them in a bag and draw one and write what ever that word brings up. This type of writing happen to be my favorite exercise. It's freeing yet still contained .Feel free to leave comments or share your own writings. I will be adding random words to explore free form writing, please join me in these exercises or suggest words to write about. Thank you
BLEACH "Bleach kills everything" It’s time I shook you; shook my inner core till every last metastasized flake falls free. I know..... I’ll become a spelunker explore deep caves between new legs Hibernate in opium dens full of carnivorous souls, clamoring for expedited transcendental love affairs. I’ll look for sunken ships in sunken eyes. Stock up on dangerous libations imported from the south of somewhere you or I have never been. I'll Place brightly colored silk scarves over my lamps and wait for everything to catch fire. Setting flame, to the things I no longer need to hold on to. I’ll see if with all this Portland rain I can cultivate an even newer personality I’ll drive myself deep into the fertile earth with each new branch I will spring forth shoots of "back off", "fuck you" and "anything goes" I’ll busk naked on soggy street corners hula hooping, hard in drag. Become a street prophet raving mad with enlightenment, bursting from every orifice. I’ll give you a different name I’ll change your face your sex eye color I’ll create guerrilla billboard art in the midst of street night madness that will surely makes you itch with the sheer terror that I’ll never again be yours. I’ll do what ever it takes but, I assure you I can learn how to forget. I am determined to wash you away. They say, bleach kills everything! and, usually..... . I don't believe in using bleach. I know it kills unborn unicorns and promotes three headed centipedes. In fact ........I’m sure it's even responsible for your leaving, but I’m determined, so I’ll give it a go. It's raining again and I’m on the bus again Looking for my new home away from home She will have mauve lips the color of your nipples When he touches me I will know that I am enough They will make me smile like the sun lit laughter in those after school specials. Make me cut out construction paper hearts in every mushy color for them I will write sweet nothings on the back of Trimet bus seats and I will no longer have any need for bleach -BT CELLULAR MEMORY “One by one, we make our way to the swamp below. It is in this dark place, where they tell me that the Darlington’s grow.” The Darlington’s begin to sing. They are a choir of ancient peoples speaking a language I do not think I know. There voices familiar, they are each calling out, anchoring me to the earth. There voices become clearer. This is a feeling I am familiar with, a sound that resonated from within me. I am afraid. I do not dare move. Their wisdom transcends me. They have taken me over. The Darlington’s are questioning me. I am being baptized. I am being threatened. I’ve been caught trespassing. I am an intruder in a an ancient ceremony. I should not be here. I have been here before. The earth groans. Moving and straitening, She is stretching out her bones. They are in my head now. They speak to me. Calling me out. Saying my name, They are telling me to leave, To stay. I am stranger. I am there sister. There lover. I am rooted to them forever. Their voices are growing inside of me like tiny crystals gems, They are making sure that I will never again be able to forget them. They are building themselves into my walls. They are forming stalactites. Together they are a million hungry voices, shouting out, all at once. They are laying out my history, feeding me my past. I am full of thunder. My veins wet with river My teeth, rabbit bone They are telling me to remember. To be sad. To dig into the earth. To reveal what is lost. To tell the truth. To remember, that this is there place. These are holy grounds. These ceremonies happen. These songs are for the frogs and beetles, for the crickets and the reeds. These songs are of the Darlington’s. These songs are being sung nightly. But I can not hear them anymore. Somehow I do not fit. I am now alien. I have always been. They are telling me to leave. They are telling me to stay. Telling me to look inside myself, To remember that my bones are black basalt, my hair usnea. I must grow my roots into the ground. I will drink the earths red magma. I will pull down the heavens. I am remembering the taste of ocean, and the kiss of sky They are telling me to leave now, but I do. I remember. -BT
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Fireflies in Glass Jars (30/08/2012)
Remember to Float (02/05/2012)
Spirit Animal (12/04/2012)
Krilian Photography (16/03/2012)
Vertigo # 2 (14/03/2012)
Vertigo #1 (14/03/2012)
Don't Forget (09/03/2012)
These Days (08/03/2012)
Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/bt
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