04-24-2012, 11:50 AM
I just have to!! sorry, just don’t shot at me!!
The 'Tec looked at the moon.
Sunk two teeth into a candy bar filled with cream of morphine death.
Slow, relaxing and painless. He walked past a news stand saw his other
reflection in a dime novel's cover. This time Dave Stringer was looking for a blonde
(weren't we all?) charged with shooting a bishop. Tec leaned on a bar nursing a tall one
while the blonde smoked in a weird white aura in the mirror .
The guy running the newsstand was a sad and overweight Italian.
He looked wife’d with needy kids.
A laid-back corner took Tec in tow and put him at a door beside a laundrette;
his key fitted easy. Hunched he climbed a flight of stairs to another door; opened,
and stepped into a small room where a blond man sat smoking-
-smoking the blonde got kissed then thrown the candy wrapper
Tec took out a pint of Rye.
edit in
what I’m trying to show you is this
we live within our backgrounds and it is all alive, moving and pulsing whether by nature, or man made it pulse as we slip between the photos as seen by the watcher,
make the Tec 2nd to his surrounding and the whole becomes animated and alive.
Words are pinned in place, all of them demanding and shouting “this is where I belong”
a poet or a writer takes them and places them out of their comfort zone
and that gets noticed ( bad grammar the purists say)
Art-- says the open mind,
Bloody talent, says the avid reader. Aim for the eyes that matter
The 'Tec looked at the moon.
Sunk two teeth into a candy bar filled with cream of morphine death.
Slow, relaxing and painless. He walked past a news stand saw his other
reflection in a dime novel's cover. This time Dave Stringer was looking for a blonde
(weren't we all?) charged with shooting a bishop. Tec leaned on a bar nursing a tall one
while the blonde smoked in a weird white aura in the mirror .
The guy running the newsstand was a sad and overweight Italian.
He looked wife’d with needy kids.
A laid-back corner took Tec in tow and put him at a door beside a laundrette;
his key fitted easy. Hunched he climbed a flight of stairs to another door; opened,
and stepped into a small room where a blond man sat smoking-
-smoking the blonde got kissed then thrown the candy wrapper
Tec took out a pint of Rye.
edit in
what I’m trying to show you is this
we live within our backgrounds and it is all alive, moving and pulsing whether by nature, or man made it pulse as we slip between the photos as seen by the watcher,
make the Tec 2nd to his surrounding and the whole becomes animated and alive.
Words are pinned in place, all of them demanding and shouting “this is where I belong”
a poet or a writer takes them and places them out of their comfort zone
and that gets noticed ( bad grammar the purists say)
Art-- says the open mind,
Bloody talent, says the avid reader. Aim for the eyes that matter
Perfection changes with the light and light goes on for infinity ~~~Bronte