.......For Sale!

��Hypocrisy can't look in the mirror.
Hypocrisy feels tears behind those narrowed eyes
She's constantly pissed
Blame and excuses make her day.
Hypocrisy knows
Yet will not change
She ends up hating without reason
A tyrant with remorse only for her own butterflies
Ask me, 'How do you know this'

I wish you could see my covered mirrors



��China cup chocolat
Red butterscotch for me
Speckled with purple
Silk sins under the skin
Rippling, shuddering restraint
Arrested by dreams
Welts rising, golden red
Tender to the touch
Yet you know
It will end
So you enjoy it
Broken skin

A tweep of mine inspired me to write this. Not my best yet I think I captured the emotion as best I could for someone who isn't into that kinda thing. Lol


Weekly Book Review

��The Lie by O.H Bennet.

A moving contemporary tale of race relations and family. The books whole potential was depleted by the spotty grammar and sometimes downright atrocious sentence structure. The affect was also decreased by the distaste one felt for the main and supporting characters. Even though Bennet depicted a realist situation his characters acted in continuously unrealistic w*ys. His characters did not stay within their fictionally designated psychological realm. One minute a vicious hustler was beating his girlfriend, the next minute speaking in an intelligent manner about the role of life and memories. It would have been funny if it hadn't been such a pain to read. Though I give him props for trying, I wouldn't reccomend this book to read.

The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold

Alive Sebold captured my heart after I read her first novel, The Lovely Bones, two years ago. It was the first contemporary book I'd I ever cried reading. In 'The Almost Moon', she shows again her natural talent for storytelling and depicting emotion. It tells the story of an artist model who kills her ailing demented mother on impulse. At first you think 'what a sicko!' Yet after you read and learn the worst Helen Knightly has to offer you begin to understand the strange psychologial ties this woman has, and the history of mental illness and self-violence that permeated her family. As you read you come to sympathize with almost everyone in the book, not by charity yet by simple human care. Sebold also portrays the brutality of a neighborhood which refuses to understand the implications of mental illness. This is in my opinion a wonderful book by a consistent and fresh writer. Her own personal tragedy and violation give her a view point that not many authors in the contemporary world of literature have. If you don't read this you at least must read 'The Lovely Bones'. It's one of the most amazing novels I've ever read.



��An ample vocabulary
Is useless
My thesaurus melts
Search engines
Gears spontaneously begin to rust
Every foreign dialect
That's passed
Through my
Every sound of
Every human
Every painting
By every maestro
A composistion by Debussy
Or Mendholsson
Brought to life by an infant virtuouso
Lagerfield's genius in
Silk and organdy
And centuries of races.
Empires won.
Just to find a minute something
To describe the tiny speck of galaxy
In your iris,
Would take
The end of time

I wrote this poem ironically while sitting three seats from the guy I liked at DE class, yet I wasn't writing about him. It's more about love (a theme I write effortlessly on yet hopelessly can't achieve in real life). The man I saw while writing this was of course I don't have to say his name now do I? Lol. Yet it's also about how I would feel about whatever man I chose to love and love me.


Love Infinitesmal

�� Eyes
Rimmed in natural nutmeg
Black depths of sweet
Innocent yet not
Beauty as brutal as slitting my own throat
Gentle as no one but a man can be
Virginal in body I
Yet in my mind you've raped me
over and over
Just as I begged you to

Pure happiness of heart
Impaled by many dreams
Wet and Dry
And scientifically in every facet
Of every way
How I will love
And how you must love me