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The Guitar PlayerThe Guitar PlayerThe Guitar Player
She practiced scales, stretching her fingers across frets each morning until her wrists locked and her tendons twitched.
Her median nerve quit before her hands had learned to play a single song.
by =CornerstoneAscetic
When I say I'm a poet...When I say I'm a poet...When I say I'm a poet...
When I say I'm a poet, please don't think of love. Think of cats and dogs and doors. Think of dirty windows, clean cups, dishwater and unmade beds.
Don't think of sweet, secret smiles. Think of long and lonely strides in a streetside sunset. Don't think of chocolate roses and red ribbon. Think of a balcony at night with the light on.
Forget amorous songs and dances. Think instead of a pen, a lamp a piece of paper and a mind.
by =CornerstoneAscetic
Concrete ImagesConcrete ImagesConcrete Images
Concrete images, full of cracks and dandelions. Ants, centipedes chalk and hand prints. Little lives of stone, etched with sticks to bear a name.
Irregularities, smoothed with the swirled grain of trowels. Pebbles poking through pavement, and a dozen dips per inch.
Leaves lisp across the surface, each grain of gravel grinds under foot. Skid marks from worn rubber on warm days splay each way as if to point the paths which people follow.
And there, at the corner of Side-St
by =CornerstoneAscetic
dreamscape fodderdreamscape fodderdreamscape fodder
Malls full of hair and tattered jeans. Grocery stores blanketed with sweaters. Campuses covered with sandals and aviator sunglasses. Restaurants wrapped up in smocks and non-slip shoes. Office lobbies strangled with ties. Concerts that hop in sneakers and heels. Liquor stores slicked back and spiked with hair gel. Swimming pools laid out beside towels. Gas stations filled with baseball caps...
and me under the blankets with karate pants
by =CornerstoneAscetic
Two LimericksI. I once took a linguistics class, but it wasn't quite worth all the cash; though we chattered like birds about phonemes and verbs there wasn't a test I could pass.Two Limericks
II. The apartment played host to a party whose attendants were all very arty; but after some bean dip the sounds from their hips gave way to an art that caused parting.
by =CornerstoneAscetic
Dove WordsDove WordsDove Words
Words can be atom bombs that irradiate everything and leave the land infertile for generations.
Or they can be water seeping through you, nourishing the roots.
Words can season meals, for better or for worse. Spice like garlic or red pepper. Cinnamon when you're having ice cream.
Words can repeat like favorite songs, songs you still love to hear after all these years.
Words can even be kites, when you watch their tails waft upward. Or they can be &nbs
by =CornerstoneAscetic
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