sleeping on grass beds tears clean the dirt from inside heart fires ignite sheets
The Benefit of a Storm
On any given day we can try to give weather the benefit of the doubt. Allow the wind to suddenly shift blowing both east and westward as directionless as a sparrow who’s replaced its wings with hearts. As if the moving air knows to carry on and continue before the final tide calls last dance. During the day the ultra violent motions of last nights lunar current sings songs...
The Comedy Bureau: MIB 3 vs. Moonrise Kingdom →
thecomedybureau: MIB 3 Domestic Gross: $55,000,000 (est.) # of Theaters (Domestic): 4,248 Gross/Theaters Average: $12,947 Rotten Tomatoes Rating: 68% International Gross: $132,000,000 (est.) Moonrise Kingdom Domestic Gross: $509,000 # of Theaters (Domestic): 4 Gross/Theaters…
7. Brody’s Bio Brody Stevens Comedy Death Ray:...
This is the place where sleep is found A lifetime of restlessness Bodies broken from not caring Hearts full…of the wrong… everything Minds warped from too much worrying about who we don’t love and who’s filling up on our golden petrol. At no cost to them. A place so tired, lips don’t detach but instead retract to their cold winters’ home....
stopping the world from ending
To be able to breathe all of you in so that I could for once become the absolute of our desires… To grab your unrelenting happiness holding it high above where and when sadness walks through this door… To stop you… at the very moment before the first time you whisper those three words; savoring that very last second of innocence Preparing for when that very next...
Cold She Wasn't
And her eyes, as still as the slippery concrete found on the bottom of city rivers, were far too fragile to hold her memories that ran down stream and into her lifeless body. She would celebrate each day of the warming sun with five candles atop a melting ice cream cake and……with each breath she cried……for the river to wash her away.
Quand il me prend dans les bras Il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose– Edith Piaf
l.a. basketball diaries, in three parts
Trees become red ashes blue leaves rejoicing in white rain Sun will come again? Purple flowers dance golden moon flares destroy smiles Happiness is lost moon sets over silence the heartbreak is deafening Hope is no longer.
a song, in three parts
In this second wind I laughed until death began Crying is rebirth. Crying is Earth born silence is living…………..proof Love knows hearts laughter. Hearts are born in rain that falls with our eyes open Closed Together Gracefully.
She Sat and Sang by Christina Rossetti
She sat and sang alway By the green margin of a stream, Watching the fishes leap and play Beneath the glad sunbeam. I sat and wept alway Beneath the moon’s most shadowy beam, Watching the blossoms of the May Weep leaves into the stream. I wept for memory; She sang for hope that is so fair: My tears were swallowed by the sea; Her songs died in the air.
From Plaza Abaja to Pershing Square: L.A.'s Oldest... →
This is the AWESOME-EST
I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there...– Ernest Hemingway
Substitute “damn” every time you’re inclined to write...– Mark Twain
We need to fall in love with the world in order to save it.– Sebastian Copeland
The King and I
On that typical Thursday night King Butterfly wrestled with alligators as he made his way through the thickest of his forests heavy in swamp tides and black holes to fall into to lose self in and that we too soon will want to call home. Forests filled with fireflies painted with phosphorous wishes and seductively resilient carbon wings fit for dressing the most elegant of Queens. He...
Bob on Adam
Just got the Lefsetz Letter on Adam Yauch, and if i’m not mistaken I believe he posts them to his blog a couple days after the email is sent out. It’s such a perfect letter this time around…one that I wanted to share… ———————————- Bob Lefsetz firstname.lastname@example.org 1:52 PM SUBJECT: Adam Yauch This is not...
The first twelve years were someone else’s experiment in development not mine; I came prepared for the pain suffering love and nurturing that was necessary for what would come to follow in my next twelve. Those twelve were spent picking and choosing what was handed to me pain, suffering without the love or nurturing not quite living but a rite of passage for the still sleeping...
Barry Obama is my kind of guy...
I was never the BIGGEST Obama fan, being that he is a President of the United States and all. Yet I am aware of his pre-presidential and pre-senatorial awesomeness. Which brings me to contemplate whether or not I am the BIGGEST Obama fan. I might be. Oxy has a big all-year alumni event coming up, so stories start surfacing and any article with a reference to Occidental College or Oxy is shared,...
What we create in our meager minds is sometimes so much more painful than what was suppose to happen in the end. Our fascination with ends and new beginnings outweighs the effort we put into the portraits we begin to live in. Glancing at the crystal ball and knowing that you must gather your belongings is not a punishment but a reward. And the reward comes in a large box packed with a...
Dreams come we breathe them in we sometimes devour them they pass or we must let them go they come again Repeat Repeat
We mostly cowards Half express ourselves the other half lay dormant amongst our comedy of errors that sleep on stages we pay for dictating the monotony of miseducation. Having no problems with expressing them selves they stumble around, fall, these jesters… as if it were all a farce yet they still remain bread winners in our homes. How bout we cowards…try writing a new play...