There Is Nothing Like
This In The World
Filed under Broadsides Redux Project , THE ORPHANAGE
The faces seem painted again,
Clothes and all…well..
Adjusted and waiting.
Filed under Broadsides Redux Project , THE ORPHANAGE
Filed under THE ORPHANAGE
Seek out ultimate sin in Sinless City.
Or go away quietly.
There is nothing left for you
Where the flat-lands meet the mountains.
Filed under THE ORPHANAGE
It began not so innocently
with voyeuristic tendencies.
Filed under THE ORPHANAGE
Filed under THE ORPHANAGE
Filed under THE ORPHANAGE
They emanate from big beautiful brown eyes.
Innocent eyes that have seen too much,
and want answers. Eyes that beg to relax during sleep.
He has my eyes.
Filed under THE ORPHANAGE
I watch the fluid motion of
calamari dipped in marinara
and remember when
others watched
his every move too,
for many reasons.
Filed under THE ORPHANAGE
Filed under THE ORPHANAGE
Comments Off“I will be removing the
drainage tubes on Thursday,
You will not like me very much.”
Comments OffCool, damp skin
In a tropical breeze.
The smell of salt air.
But the ocean rises
Again in my chest and
I do not remember
How to swim.
Feeling storms approach
Lightning flashes
In my periphery.
My teeth crumble
When I smile or sleep.
First raindrops fall
Burgundy, Blood red
From my nostrils.
I feel the end is near,
I want for my last words
to not …
Comments OffI see the stain on the pillow from
another night of nosebleed.
A bruise on my shin from atrophied balance
meeting the bedpost says good morning.
Straw like hair creeps back.
Evidenced by strands littering my bedsheets,
shining silver where once they were brown.
I blame the cold dry air of winter
knowing that would impede fluidity,
improve the …
Comments OffNew Video Poetry Project of the Beautiful “Love Monologue”
From the Italian -English Collection “Se Guardo Dentro” – “If I Look Inside”
By Laura Mercurio Ebohon – LauraLME
Music and Vocals by Regina Aislin — Photography by Jonahh Oestreich
Video Production by Jack Varnell – The Emotional Orphann –
Additional Footage – Internet Archive (archive.org)
Comments OffThe poetry book falls, slow motion to the floor
and I take cover anticipating the ensuing
explosion of words, and wisdom
destined to be shrapnel to my soul.
Knowing nothing of modern literary warfare,
I jump under the table onto the shards of my life.
Broken dreams, shattered visions-
cutting me to the core.
This is where the …