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Violence (In My Backyard)

Posted 11-14-2009 at 07:45 PM by m_miles
Updated 11-15-2009 at 07:31 AM by m_miles

There is an Open Discussions thread ('Bystanders') which hit a nerve with me yesterday. I hoped that I had managed to keep my objectivity on the topic, because the post was certainly difficult to write due to some old memories.

I live in a country where I can be frequently targeted for my race, especially around election year. Strangely, this, more than anything else reminds me of what the colour of my skin is, or where I don't belong in a country that still calls itself bi-cultural,...
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Kinetic
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Old

True Story from hospital

Posted 11-12-2009 at 04:26 PM by tony schofield

Sorry if it gets boring, but I'm just back home from my latest, one week hospital stint.

Not the easiest experience this time. A general medicine ward where most of the punters suffer from chronic illnesses, and where they seem to deal with everything that doesn't come under any other heading. There's many a crisis and sudden admission at all times of the day and night.

It's 2 a.m. on my third day and I'm woken by a querulous elderly man's voice arguing with someone....
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Deceased Member
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Old

Heart Murmurs

Posted 11-11-2009 at 08:13 PM by goldenmyst
Updated 11-20-2009 at 09:35 PM by goldenmyst

Heart Murmurs

Blue skies permutate into saturated obsidian summoning night thoughts
in the closets of my mind where tremulous trepidation trips merrily to the tune
Of Grateful Dead's minstrel magic when darkness reigns in my apocalyptic squirrel's nest of eternity where deep in the hollow of my heart songs left unsung are nascent notes for my final Opus in the darkling hour of evening’s desolation.
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writer/poet/pickle fixer
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Old

Supermarket flirting

Posted 11-01-2009 at 08:53 PM by goldenmyst
Updated 11-01-2009 at 09:12 PM by goldenmyst

I love to flirt. Whether I'm in the supermarket or hanging out with friends, making eyes is my sport. And when she returns that knowing impish smile, I feel the promise of something beyond a mere encounter. My imagination runs wild through dreams and visions of intimate encounters.

My vicarious adventures with cashiers and store clerks provide endless endorphin rushes. Reality is irrelevant. My thoughts blossom like lilies basking in the sunshine of feminine poses. Drinking in her...
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writer/poet/pickle fixer
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Old

falling potato chips from the sky

Posted 11-01-2009 at 05:01 PM by turpentine soup (B's universe)

I am throwing potato chips from my window in the 14th floor . It’s my gift to them, the people in the street.. My sister said i should stop this habit because i might make someone mad and start a riot, but i think if it were me, i mean, if i were standing unsuspectingly on the pavement waiting for my bus and a tiny potato chip falls on me like a precious little snowflake, i would be thrilled! What a blessing it would be to be hit on the head by a falling potato chip from the heavens. It’d be...
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vogon poet
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