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Joli's Journal


Joli's Journal

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4 entries this month
 

PRIVATE ENTRY

15:26 Jan 26 2011
Times Read: 978


• • • • PRIVATE JOURNAL ENTRY • • • •


 

PRIVATE ENTRY

20:15 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 998


• • • • PRIVATE JOURNAL ENTRY • • • •


 

In Gimbals

21:12 Jan 16 2011
Times Read: 1,016


Living on cayenne pepper

And unswept floors,

Intentional, sectionals

Of polyester pitches

And microfiber stitches,

Water slopping

Like unheard wishes

From overfilled dog dishes

And under the doors…

My philosophy

More on the wing

Than the mind -

A hope that slouches

And slides

Down mirrored walls

And into the halls

Of important men

In their Starting stalls

Stopping us all.

Just yesterday,

An anchor pierced

Right through the hem

Of my blue jean

Unachievable dream,

Green and clean,

Eliot’s goat still coughing

In the field overhead

Where the windy space

Dulls my bed

And lulls the chase.

Just you and me

Or some other pronoun

On the unswept floors

Of ghost children

Singing in the round,

Ashes, ashes

We all fall down.


COMMENTS

-



Vampirewitch39
Vampirewitch39
02:14 Jan 17 2011

I love how you flow goat, blue jeans, and dog bowls. And make it art.





birra
birra
03:17 Jan 17 2011

You should, at all times, have around you a guitar that gently weeps...






Joli
Joli
03:47 Jan 17 2011

Thank you :)





Vespers
Vespers
00:30 Jan 19 2011

..beautiful.





ChasingTheGhost
ChasingTheGhost
01:05 Mar 07 2011

I don't know how I missed this... "ghost children"... sigh. This made my day perfect.





 

I did not go

17:49 Jan 13 2011
Times Read: 1,043


You threw off your shoes

And climbed, tier upon tier,

To the top of the fountain

Where you boldly cried,

"Welcome to the ancient courts of Crete!"

You held out a hand to me,

Beckoning that I should follow,

To join you there,

Resplendent as any god,

More vital than the sylphs

Posing on marble plinths

Along the pools at your feet.

I did not go.

I was ashamed and saw not

Your young and shining face

Nor the moment for what it was -

An invitation to throw off my shoes,

My reason, and to live without doubt

Even with the taste of apple

Still warm and tart on my lips.

I did not go.

And like every ghost, I return

To climb, tier upon tier,

The fountain of my youth,

But you no longer stand

Among the ageless sylphs

For I am the vapor here,

Haunting a decision long since made,

Lamenting

I did not go.


COMMENTS

-



ThothLestat
ThothLestat
18:17 Jan 13 2011

*likes*





Blackstaff
Blackstaff
18:31 Jan 13 2011

Jo, this is by far the best I've read. Bravo!





birra
birra
19:19 Jan 13 2011

*sigh*





poisonwhore
poisonwhore
15:21 Jan 29 2011

i really like this. its beautiful :)








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