Hello, you need to enable JavaScript to use this network.
Please check your browser settings or contact your system administrator.
Please check your browser settings or contact your system administrator.
Write No Cliches ... Pull No Punches ... And Keep Going All Night
Downers are selfish drugs. You pretty much get lost in your own perceptions, and nothing else outside that matters. You can't be bothered to feel anything other than what your body allows while your head is under this type of power. You are on a ride, that you can't stop, or control, until your…
Posted by Wendy Grimsley on December 30th, 2007 at 8:27pm — 2 Comments
May 03 2007
I'm reading Bukowski by dim airplane reading light from a book of poems handed to me by an Englishman upon my departure. We're taking off now, right now, and I hate the way it feels. It's reminding me of going up a…
Posted by Wendy Grimsley on December 29th, 2007 at 1:32am — 2 Comments
I’d like to think in our time together- how it persists in still frame consciousness of Technicolor haze emulating life and disrupting time- that he could kiss the death away. If I could only get a moments respite…
Posted by Wendy Grimsley on December 28th, 2007 at 11:50pm — 6 Comments
Elsie sits in the corner in front of the closet behind a bottle of 2005 Black Swan Chardonnay & Semillon that was given to us by the landlord for Christmas, along with some good kitchen knives when we paid the rent on time. Elsie is perpetually blue. I p…
Posted by Wendy Grimsley on December 28th, 2007 at 11:01pm — No Comments
fuck me like an epiphany
like waves mocking flames
thick and liquid like pulse
while walls convulse upon the corpse
draining the last innocence (ignorance)
to flesh out the bile until only electricity remains
drained delivery deliver me
into the light of mind to mind fucking
licking ideas and sucking intuition
until cognition melts sweetly
on the tip of my tongue
until my tongue melts into memory
deliver me sensually the scent of m…
Posted by Wendy Grimsley on December 20th, 2007 at 11:05pm — 3 Comments
long before man kept earning his freedom
i was just a woman
and the serpent was a metaphor for capitalism
industry snuffing out my pleasure zones
and the deal is always sealed
with some exchange of self for coloured jewels
that shine like the stepford plastic dresses
and matching helmet hairdo's
assuring nobody's prize wife is any more unique
wrap us all in assembly line perfection
and toss the rejects to the side
placid attitudes minus gratitud…
Posted by Wendy Grimsley on December 20th, 2007 at 10:59pm — 1 Comment
i'm not sitting spinning round this anymore
floored once but never twice
i've rolled dice that have no odds
god's been off my mind for some time
and you've been gone as well
i've seen your hell and i don't like the colour
i've given others and self something to doubt
telling yourself you…
Posted by Wendy Grimsley on December 20th, 2007 at 10:50pm — 1 Comment
Paul Grimsley
created this social network on Ning.
Join the fight. Get your own Writers Prize Fighters And Caffeine Inspired All Nighters badge for your website or MySpace page. (Get Code)
Writers Prize Fighters And Caffeine Inspired All Nighters brought to you by Paul Grimsley © 2009 Report an Issue | Feedback | Privacy | Terms of Service
Spread the word. Get your own Writers Prize Fighters And Caffeine Inspired All Nighters badge
