HastyWords's Blog, page 125
May 28, 2014
BECAUSE GIRLS ARE COOL – LISA
Lisa is the author of the blog Underground Energy. I spent time on her blog yesterday and I didn’t want to leave. She definitely has a beautiful strength about her.
She is on the mend after a close brush with death and has a perspective that is inspiring. Blessed with a supportive family and a blogger hubby who loves her to pieces her blog is worth the read. Please visit Lisa and get to know her.
NO DEEPER MEANING
MY BLUE SWEETHEART
INTIMACY
WAR
JOURNEY’S WAKE PART ONE
THE ESCAPIST
Check out this wonderful new duet partner!
WRITTEN BY HARSH AND HASTYWORDS
I lived inside fuzzy dreams
Behind old shredded drapes
Held captive by irrationality
And broken by all my regrets
Darkness surrounded me,
And pain shattered my soul,
Yet, I stood there, powerless.
Hoping that someday, I’ll be happy.
But someday was a temptress
Dressed in holiday pirouettes
Dancing upon hopeful dreams
But fading as the clock ticks
The only hope I had now,
Was memory of halcyon days,
And the only way to escape,
Was to just run away.
Spinning through the vortex
Uncertain of choices to make
I ran until I couldn’t anymore
And destiny found me standing still
RAZOR BLADE WORDS
NASA – HURRICANE
Words with razor blade edges
Fly with hurricane speed
Piercing my eyes, my face
Penetrating my thick skin
Perforating my solid frame
Puncturing my empty lungs
And leaving no physical trace
Of the damage they’ve done
May 27, 2014
DEAF PASSION
Inspired by a friend of mine who has a really good heart!
I may not be able to hear you
But I can feel your heart beating
As we stand exploring our space
Your fingertips tangled in my hair
Drawing my lips closer to yours
I may not be able to hear you
But I can feel your pulsing blood
Racing underneath my touch
As I clutch your hips closer to me
Getting lost in the closeness of us
I may not be able to hear you
But I can feel your fast breath
Hungry to share my air, my lust
As our hands grasp and clutch
Feeding flaming fires inside me
I may not be able to hear you
But every other sense compensates
The smell of cologne on your skin
The taste of your salty laced kisses
The feel of passion… solely ours
THE WATCH by Jonathan Ojanpera
Jonathan Ojanpera is a freelance journalist, blogger, poet, musician, and photographer. Besides contributing to several non-mainstream news sites he has just published his first book titled, “The Watch”. I have had the privilege of collaborating on a few duets and as evidenced by his blog he has a talent for writing poetry. Jonathon’s book shows more of the same story telling passion.
His introduction to writing came in the form of poetry in his early teens. His work has been featured on several political, poetic and literary websites and books. His work is continually evolving into long form fiction. He was born in Palm Beach, Florida, spent his childhood in Southwest Colorado and now resides in the Deep South with his wife and four daughters. His creativity is drawn from his travels and the multi-cultural experiences he has had, growing up in starkly contrasting regions of the US. ~Jonathan Ojanpera Bio
“The Watch” is a collection of poetry and prose written in many forms, covering many topics; from love to spirituality, from depression to ecstasy. You will also find Jonathan’s original art within the pages. A great read to add to your collection of poets and a good book to realize a yet to be found interest in poetry. ~Amazon Description
“The Watch” can now be found on Amazon as an e-book and the paperback should be ready shortly! Please support a fellow poet/blogger and consider purchasing his book and leaving review for him on Amazon.
MY REVIEW: A passionate voice screams from each poetic entry. Whether about love, worry, pain, or a simple observation you can feel the heart beating behind each word. A great book of poetry and the art was a wonderful addition. I felt as if each entry was being written with someone in mind but in reality it was my own connectedness to the words that gave it that dimension. It easily brought images of my own life to mind which is the talent behind a great poetic piece. Next in line from Jonathan Ojanpera is a book of short stories that I am sure will be more of the same passionate talent he portrays in everything else he does.
VODKA BAPTISM
Written by Primal Night’s and HastyWords
She presses her breath gently from her lips
Unaware that she had been holding it in
The quiet breaks slowly; a sad sort of beauty
Numbness threatens every bony limb
And chills the length of her spine
As he fills her tub with liquored sin
She stills herself against what is to come
Voiding her mind of all its memories
Preparing herself for complete immersion
The water slowly searches her every curve
Baptizing each synapse with death then life
Drowning all her dark and melancholy filth
Blotches of red memories burn and quiver
Resentment soaks then sizzles and dissolves
In a smoking, purifying cauldron of hurt
Holy-water poured from vodka bottles.
Lined the tubs edge, memorializing the event
Dousing all her strangled and addicted desires
He lovingly awoke her inspiration to live
Cleansing her and one by one helped drown
Every voice that attempted to do her in
MONARCH WINGS
Wings by HastyWords
WRITTEN BY OFF DUTY MOM AND HASTYWORDS
Waxy colors rained down
Turning bright colors
Of greens, reds, and blues
Into those of muddy brown.
And in war and strife, I drop anchor here
In this sea so soft with murk,
Thinking of how much better it is to let the children
See this world than the one that lies beyond.
There’s shelter, though, in my arms,
For they have already weathered far more.
Healing comes in all forms here
And my forgiveness covers every hurt.
We will start over; we will persist
Where the sun is merely a lantern in the sky
By weaving the ground into baskets
And singing tapestries into butterflies.
Now there’s beauty in the eyes of dragons
For they know not how to extinguish
That which makes them monstrous.
So, the only difference between us is how we use our fire.
I provide solace here as we float together yet
Tethered to the silty floor of a world burst
Into glory in skies painted
With monarch wings in golden disguise.
May 26, 2014
Why Write: Hasty Words
Check out this wonderful series on Chaos and words. Sometimes writing isn’t your dream but sometimes it gives you the confidence to dream.
Originally posted on Chaos and Words:
I remember when I was younger I wanted to be a brain surgeon until I realized I could end up killing someone, and that’s where the dream ended. Then I wanted to be a psychiatrist until I realized I could screw a person up mentally, and that’s where that dream ended. I created and destroyed my dreams one after the other because of the notion that one way or another I would end up invariably hurting another human being. But then in Anatomy and Physiology class during the late 1980’s I got to dissect a frog. Finally, a dream I couldn’t destroy with my little theory.
I wanted to be a forensic pathologist. I wanted to examine corpses and put all the puzzle pieces together that would explain their sudden and sometimes violent deaths. I could be the person finding answers that would give the living closure. It wasn’t until…
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May 24, 2014
BECAUSE GIRLS ARE COOL – KIMBERLY
Take a peek at this cool girls blog: words4jp.
I feel like we are kindred spirits in many ways but mostly because, like me, she puts her emotions into poetry. I am lucky to be one of her fans. If you like cute pet pictures she has those too! :)
The Dancer
May 23, 2014
GOODBYE BAD
It hurts
Like a needle and thread hurt broken skin
It hurts
When two souls separate, worn too thin
It hurts
When words stop flowing with faded grins
It hurts
When all that’s left are wounds to mend
“You could duct tape my mouth shut, and I’d still talk too much. I talk with my hands, so you have to listen hard to hear me. You’ll hear my flattering words when you see me clap. Hello and goodbye are the same word, in the language of the hand. When I talk with my hands, I might be agreeable and say “Ok.” Or I might be calling you an asshole. But let’s face it, I am agreeable, and you are an asshole.”
~ Jarod Kintz, American Association for the Advancement of Aardvarks Presents: Dear Natalie
