I'm starting something new...

I've been all over the place the past few days and every friend that I have talked to has said the same thing, "You need to write." They're right. I have the curse, the need to create visions with my words and connect with any one willing to take time and read them. So here's the deal this Blog was created a while back to collect the artistic style of my writing and I think I'm ready to make it open to the people.

I'm going to start pulling out some of my old writing and throw them up here as well, my art my photos all of it. So let me start by linking you to my Bionic eye and leaving you with a few of my old school poems that are just tongue and cheek and see where that leads us shall we?

Bionic eye

Simon's Pretty Pretty

A lovely She
Sweet angel face
Chocolate aphrodisiac
just want a tiny taste
Luscious dessert tray
pass her round this way
I'll take a little of this, a nibble on that
thick and rich, watch her twitch

A lovely She
Love to taste that peppermint stick
watch it wag behind those cherry lips
I wanna cheat, I wanna lie
don't worry baby I'll lick the tears away when you cry
Steal her away, my sweet tooth set on over drive
She is the sugar buzz
giving me the sweetest thrill
Dear berry tart be my love
all night long till the dawn
or till I'm done
Sticky fingers and whipped cream dreams
lick it clean Cumming to the end
Desert tray pass her round this way
A lovely, She


Welcome Home Nightmares

I listening now as my stereo plays
Melancholy bliss...
The bliss that I see in the distance
of the distant open window, I can hear it,
the heart beat of the city as traffic
rushes though it's arteries and veins
There is a fair round the corner,
and from the birds eye view atop my roof
I can see the lights of the ferris wheel
an amidst all this, all this fucking maddening bliss
all I can think of is your face
Yes your face because I miss thee
Of course, why else you fool
this fool falling in love with the world again
Memories of and us and we everything that was
Trying to claw my way through the present to the past,
becoming mad, madly
I miss you madly my sister, sister insanity, it never stops
I beg you please stop
stop for and instant to take in the delights
All sights all sounds, because it will never happen again
So lick it up today and never tomorrow,
it’s just to fucking faraway
Stop and smell the flowers, but don’t eat them
they are poisonous, which would mean the hellish end
No not the end, not right now, goodbye tend to fallow
Goodbye’s never say them, it means never again,
and there is always the possibility of again
So never goodbye but till the next time
Till then my brother, my sister, daughter, son, mother, father, lover
I lust thee all
Never want to go, the stillness is to sacred
as the veins keep pumping and the ferris wheel keeps turning
From this birds eye view enjoy it while you can
Take time, don’t waste it and smell the flowers
but don’t eat them, they’re poisonous

I am Ragnarok

Someone asked her to make a list and put it up on a shelf to try and forget her troubles…

The list started with scribbles and doodles of all the usual sort and then, frustration grew deep and she felt as though it was selfish to have such feelings. To be such a fucking whiner, it seems to go against everything that she was striving not to be.

“I don’t have enough money, I need a new job, I’m dissatisfied with my life, and I think I love, but don’t know what love is?…”

Blah, blah, blah bullshit, bullshit… Seriously, what the fuck does she have to complain about? Roof over hear head, food in her stomach, a job to go to and money to be made. She should be fucking grateful! An yet no matter how small she tries to make herself, no matter how humble she tries to become, she hungers for something, it growls through her . The hunger grows and is turned onto others with and empty hollowness to fallow leaving her unfulfilled. Like some kind of silent penance she will have to commit till she finally realizes her sin and confronts it. Until then she eats at the flesh of man fulfilling every suggested desire but never quenching the need for what truly needs to be fulfilled.

The tale of Ragnarok alive and well and playing out with in her own being, the struggle of the wolf that keeps growing with each passing of time only to out surpass it’s shackles and breaks free to devour his captors and set forth the beginning of the end

I think I understand it now.

There is this tug in her chest from a while ago that makes it hard to face someone these days...
Someone that she cares so much for it makes her........... smile. Never ache, nervous, or anxious just blessed. Blessed that they are there, blessed that they listen and in a round about abstract Buddhist kind of way, making since when they speak in the term of "all" in reference to just one and how wonderfully surreal that sounds but how much since it can make.

"I think he's the reason why I can never really fall in love, the reason I find it so easy to go along and have these bizarre relationships with other people and not need there undying dedication to me and only me. I think in some ways my heart has always been there with him and there isn't a whole hell of a lot I can do about it,............................................. I am the worlds biggest hypocrite."

Last week in the midst of all the insanity, doubt, anger and frustration, just one smile from his face and she let it all go, just so she could smile back. Liking the way she can lean against him and he automatically pulls her close no matter where, no matter when. Feeling him and his energy when he touches, it's like you can read his mind, his that open. No fear no walls getting all of him when he's there and that is such a refreshing and amazing thing she can't even begin to say.

It's hard to fall in love with other people no matter how much you would like to... Like to kill the loneliness, like to kill the doubt, like to not have to act the skeptic. It's hard to give a heart away that you already gave away years ago, to the boy that claimed you before you could even say hi. So natural to hear him say he loves her and so easy to say it back because she dose, every time they talk those are the last words spoken between then, just like any one that is of the same blood, I love you. The simple oath that "I will be here for you no matter what because I am yours and you are mine."

Yet the hypocrite sits in prideful silence not to speak of this to any one, not even herself becasue she knows she can't, to many hearts at stake. "And there is the answer of why I spend my time in the company of unavailable men, are you fucking satisfied?"


(It's a screan play concept, but for some sad reason it seems to becomimg more and more of an autobiography... I just found alot of truth when barainstorming and I'm pretty fucking sure I don't want to face it)

Friendship = the freedome of goodstuff

There are some times I feel a little guilty, not for the nature of the relationships that I have with some people. They are strange and unconventional and I would never change them in a million years. I accept the fact the people will pry never really accept them because of there questionable content but those people can blow my dildo cause there my friendships and I don’t let my friendships go for just about anything.

So where is this guilt coming from? Well comes from the fact that with in these friendships I pretty much get all the good stuff and none of the bad. Then again I have been known to have to magic touch of soothing the angry beasts of men and settling the upset stomachs and their saddened harts as well. Call it a gift call it being a saint, either way even in the whole time of knowing some and facing their demons head on I’ve managed to hold on to the person that is there and let the demons fade away . Or even when in heated debate that could turn very ugly at any second, in one sigh I can spin the situation in to a flurry of words and then a rain of clothes and well the rest I leave to your imagination. Maybe I’m more optimistic than I thought? Maybe I just want to think the best of people so much all I can pick out is the good over the bad?

Still I feel like I get nuthin’ but the good stuff, lucky I know but I guess that’s the benefit of being a loving and caring friend? No expectations no demands just there when it’s needed and glade to be and gone in a whisper till the next time.

Fates Bitch Once Again

Fate is a strange thing and I think she has a fetish for making me her personal little bitch when it comes to the matter of the heart and sex etc…

I must have a sign on my forehead that says all lovely and talented TAKEN men come here for your lusts and leave the rest behind… Like I said Fate she is a harsh mistress and she seems to take pleasure in playing me like a puppet these days.

So may beautiful boys wonder to my arms for comfort and thrill and then turn and go back to where they came. I feel like the worlds best kept secret.

I’m not a victim though by any means, I mean I allow it to happen I’m just as guilty as they when it comes to wanting, to being wanted, and giving into to the heady fascination of the matter. The only difference where they my claim a certain amount of ignorance, I could see it off a mile away, smell it even before there first touch, before their first kiss, before they even look me in the eye that way, I can sense something off of them and I’ve already decided to let them have what they want before they wanted it.

So like I say I am guilty maybe even more so because I am the muse that brings them in to the fascination to where in many ways maybe they didn’t even have a choice in the first place?

Course I’m pry giving myself too much credit on that one...

DD

I wandered down the hall towards the front doors of the lobby when a smile curled the corners of my lips so fast; the sight of wet pavement out front caused me to sprint towards the doors, gitty with thoughts of rain. Goosebumps prickled my skin in the anticipation of feeling the touch of ice cold drops rolling softly along my face, neck...

When I pushed through the doors my smile fades and a heavy sigh escaped my lips. The window cleaners had started in on the second story; my moment of indulgence was dashed, or was it? As I just stood for a second watching the water drip from the over hang of the building frustrated from it’s false promise. My lids shut for a brief moment and a shock ran up my spine, as a million little kisses brushed my cheek.

There was a mist that sat heavy in the sky, like a lover lounged across you after a good go of sex. A thousand little fingers worked swiftly and found every inch of exposed flesh on my body, shivers and chills slid down and across my skin. All the little hairs on the back of neck stood up like all the times I’ve heard that voice whisper into my ear. My mind wondered to all kinds of dark places bringing a hot flash to my cheeks. I could feel my dimples take up the whole sides of my face making me blush even harder. I let my finger tips join the million others caressing the little indentations of the small of my back. Thinking of all the times some one else’s hands have danced there way across that same bit of flesh. I rapped myself a bit deeper into my sweater, a smell that only exists in my mind filled my senses as I hide behind my hair holding my little secrets close and the feelings I have even closer. My feet kept perfect time with the strong pounding in my chest, so strong, so heavy, so moving, and so very beautiful.

Smoker...

The story of my smoking, it’s come up, people asking me why I do it and so I seriously thought about it. I mean honestly why in the hell would any one want to smoke? It makes you stink one, it fucks up your teeth, could potentially kill you….

Wait; wait what back that up, it can what? Now hey just a minute there, kill ya hu? Like slowly so you’re not bleeding on the cutting room floor, but your still knocking off years right? Hum very interesting.

See I wasn’t the smoker pretending not to know what it’s doing to her. I've been counted on it. I smoked when I was “stressed.” That’s what I called it. Stressing or “being tired”. Those where the little sayings I use to use to say I’m depressed as fuck, but I really don’t want you to know about it, so fuck off. It’s pry when I started to learn how to lie the best during those years. You'd know I wasn’t happy, but you never know how bad.

I started smoking when I was about 15ish? A lot of my friends did it because it was cool because you could do it at parties while you where drinking. Only thing is I didn’t go to parties and I didn’t drink back then. I was just “stressed”.

My association with Death isn’t a healthy one. Unfortunately he and I meet way back in the day, pry a bit before my mind could really wrap round what he was all about, but when you meet the guy you can't really take it back you can't forget him he's just always there, hanging round. It's kind of freaky like the werid ass guy on the street corner that's always learning at you, just scary.

So when you fear something I have found the best way to counter that. is to learn how to control it. What better way to control it than to slowly cause it. I told you it was a bit morbid. There is this little thought in the back of my mind every time I take a drag, “there goes a few more minutes where I will never have to feel this way again.” Or "there are a few more years of the depends time line of my life." Seriously that’s what I think with just anbout every lighter flick.

I wasn’t a very happy kid well, Well okay I was happy but when you run into a fucker like death and know he's just looming round the corner it can kind of fuck your perception of long life. Lets just say I played in shadow more than I played in sunshine. So ya that’s kind of where it comes from, a slower kind of suicide but killin' myself none the less, but considering you never know if you'll wake up to see the next sunrise, and ledgads are those that die young and leve beautiful corpses... Eh I think I'm not in that bad of company?