Aimer, travailler, souffrir.

I'm a goober.

Living in a perpetual breakdown.

Obsessed with Tom Waits, Jack Kerouac, coffee, and reading economic - sociological - political and poetic books that keep me awake for days on end.

I'm in love with libraries, used book stores, record stores, small fragrant coffee shops, and remembering what it was like to influence and inspire others.

But that was long ago.

I still send handwritten letters. If you want one let me know.
Tattoo Idea 3: The coffee cup from the cover art of my first book with a banner that reads “Death Before Decaf.”

Tattoo Idea 3:

The coffee cup from the cover art of my first book with a banner that reads “Death Before Decaf.”

Tattoo Idea 2: IWW (Industrial Workers of the World) logo.

Tattoo Idea 2:

IWW (Industrial Workers of the World) logo.

Tattoo idea 1. Emma Goldman’s mugshot.

Tattoo idea 1.

Emma Goldman’s mugshot.

Sometimes you just need to listen to Velvet Underground. Loudly. Too early in the morning.

It’s been a while since I wrote any poetry.

Not just decent poetry, or presentable poetry.

Any poetry at all.

The idea that there will be a reading for my chapbook scares the wits out of me - particularly because none of this is political.  This is out of my comfort zone.  

And these poems are so short.

But it’s okay.  Anxiety is good.  It kicks me in the ass and gets me going.

Guess I just need to get my nerves out.  Back to work.

…our ears are too small for our hearts to understand the humming of these sentences inside of us.

—Anis Mojgani (via peacepoetryprogress)

It’s okay to run
I learned that long ago
I ain’t been still since
it don’t mean I don’t love you
I’m just trying to catch up to my heart
I’ve let it out of my hands too many times
I have to learn how to hold it tighter
there are hungry birds that fly around us all.

—Anis Mojgani (via peacepoetryprogress)

I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate & rain boats nearby because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix. Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks chocolate can’t fix but that’s what the rain boots are for because rain will wash away everything if you let it.

—Sarah Kay (via peacepoetryprogress)

fuckyeahtattoos: Joey DarlingInk done by Jessica @ Forbidden Body Art- Portland, Or.Everyone always asks me: What does that say?Well: They are all lines, taken from all the poems by my favorite poet (Anne Sexton), that I put in a new order to make a new story/flow.:) When your heart went on a journey all alone. Who are you? Merely a kid keeping alive. She’s on a voyage. A girl who keeps slipping off into the hypnotists trance. Into a world of spirits. He fastened the moon up with a safety pin to give her perpetual light. Even the stars were strapped in the sky. Nameless. Nameless. Earth less. Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard. I cannot promise you very much. I give you the images I know lie still with me and watch. We laugh and we touch. I promise you love; time will not take that away. Cheeks as fragile as cigarette paper. Rolling her china blue doll eyes open and shut. She was as full of life as soda pop. And so she danced until she was dead. Let go, let go. Oh special person, this typewriter likes you. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. You drank their acid and concealed it. Picking the scabs off your heart. Your courage was a small coal you kept swallowing. Oh demon within, put my hand up to my mouth and stitch it up. Waltzing with her tissue paper ghost. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind. In the end you will dance the fire dance in iron shoes. Our eyes are full of terrible confessions. Dear love, I am that girl. Before today my body was useless. I’ve never played it safe. Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say not. Say. Take me in. Give me a report on the condition of my soul. Write me. La, la, la oh music swims back to me. via

fuckyeahtattoos:

Joey Darling
Ink done by Jessica @ Forbidden Body Art- Portland, Or.

Everyone always asks me:
What does that say?

Well: They are all lines, taken from all the poems by my favorite poet (Anne Sexton), that I put in a new order to make a new story/flow.

:)

When your heart went on a journey all alone. Who are you? Merely a kid keeping alive. She’s on a voyage. A girl who keeps slipping off into the hypnotists trance. Into a world of spirits. He fastened the moon up with a safety pin to give her perpetual light. Even the stars were strapped in the sky. Nameless. Nameless. Earth less. Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard. I cannot promise you very much. I give you the images I know lie still with me and watch. We laugh and we touch. I promise you love; time will not take that away. Cheeks as fragile as cigarette paper. Rolling her china blue doll eyes open and shut. She was as full of life as soda pop. And so she danced until she was dead. Let go, let go. Oh special person, this typewriter likes you. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. You drank their acid and concealed it. Picking the scabs off your heart. Your courage was a small coal you kept swallowing. Oh demon within, put my hand up to my mouth and stitch it up. Waltzing with her tissue paper ghost. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind. In the end you will dance the fire dance in iron shoes. Our eyes are full of terrible confessions. Dear love, I am that girl. Before today my body was useless. I’ve never played it safe. Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say not. Say. Take me in. Give me a report on the condition of my soul. Write me. La, la, la oh music swims back to me.

via

(Source: fuckyeahtattoos, via lovingsylvia)

posingsexywithbooks: Reading Kerouac the way it’s meant to be read - drunk, naked, and blurry

posingsexywithbooks:

Reading Kerouac the way it’s meant to be read - drunk, naked, and blurry

posingsexywithbooks: No matter how long my day has been, there’s always time for some Darwish.

posingsexywithbooks:

No matter how long my day has been, there’s always time for some Darwish.