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Anubis on March 28, 2008Hello Cristos.. You probably don't remember me.
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naikipet me on July 1, 2006hey butt what happened with the writing??? where are you... on here...
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naikipet me on May 26, 2006note to self...remember to write some good stuff before cristos looks at my stuff again so that he will think i am cool and awesome and worthy
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almostthesea on December 10, 2005the chords knotted together like insane nouns Dante
you are in bed in the dark copula you
of the musical phrase a few star birds sing in the branches
their voices are tangled not high
now all of them are dark and some move you
were a word, in the wood of my life
where the leaves are words, some of them fucking
in obscurity their clasping is terrible and brusque
pain birds ache thru them and some
are lighter and seem to suggest less
of death than of a viola da gamba player these
birds sweep past in the forest
of my hands on your chest, as we move
out on the glowing sea of the tropics on an ice pack, you,
You (IV)
- Tom Clark -
unbeliever101 on November 29, 2005I love how you write in english AND spanish-that's os awesome! And skateboarding rocks!
You write interesting, thought provoking stuff..I like! *A -
almostthesea on November 22, 2005en effet
je suis ainsi occupé
et en même temps
n'occupé pas
oh oh & oh
this is for you,
it is so simple
i think you would like it:
il se peut qu'un rêve étrange
vous ait occupée ce soir,
vous avez cru voir un ange
et c'était vortre miroir.
it may be that a strange dream
seized you tonight,
you thought you saw an angel
and it was your mirror.
dans sa fuite Eléonore
a défait ses longs cheveux
pour déborer à l'aurore
le doux objet de mes voeux.
in her flight Eléonore
undid her long hair
to rob the dawn
of the sweet object of my desire.
a quelque mari fidèle
il ne faudra plus penser.
je suis amant, j'ai des ailes,
je vous apprends à voler.
you should think no longer
of some faithful husband.
i am the lover, i have wings
i will teach you to fly.
que la muse du mensonge
apporte au bout de vos doigts
ce dédain qui n'est qu'un songe
du berger plus fier qu'un roi.
may the muse of falseness
bring to the end of your fingers
that scorn which is but a dream
of the sheperd prouder than a king.
"it may be/il se peut" max jacob -
almostthesea on November 21, 2005NEVER ENOUGH
is right,is right
i am on coffee cup three
i am on a chair
i am on an earth
where are you, how are you
how is your dear heart
jeri -
dope on September 14, 2005thanks man... i didn't even have to do that, it was quite easy actually... just go to the group page and then click on members, and there it was, my way out... I'm out!!!!
See ya in december!!! -
Quill on August 17, 2005thanks will look forward to your review , i write in a style pretty different to your own.
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almostthesea on August 15, 2005i had peanut butter &
jelly sandwhich,
for breakfast this morning, to-day.
my aunt has left the house.
i am glad, because my dearest motley crue
can be listened to
full-blast with no inhibitions.
once, some people told my boyfriend that
he looked like tommy lee,
and he slightly does, i think
& i love THAT VERY MUCH.
rar.
how is your day starting? -
dope on August 14, 2005whats up man... well, I changed my name from sangreal to dope... in case you were interested.
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almostthesea on June 24, 2005ah, life is functioning. yes.
and my mind works in mysterious ways, kind of like god. hah.
bowing, in my opinion, is a sign of modesty and i am sick with adoration for humble things. o if anyone were to bow in humility i would fall and bow with them and pet their foreheads and kiss their cheeks and say, you are a most lovely creature, you are.
i love trees. i just returned from maine and new hampshire, or from all over the new england coast and there were so many trees there. i was comforted at the sight of forests and living greens.
how is the weather over there?
how is your life?
Edited on Jun 24, 5:45 p.m. because 'something sounded fishy phrased.'. -
almostthesea on May 20, 2005OH YOU.
i do
adore your new name,
because it makes me
feel - that everything
functions,
even people.
love love peace weed to you, dear chris. i am off to read. -
Asterick on April 11, 2005You know something?
Of course, probably many things.
But I mean, you are not a salty little snail anymore.
I recognize this.
That and you are gold and I am gold and everyone is GOLD.
I love you, man. -
April Renee on April 11, 2005finally..a collaboration. lol. i have nothing started right now. i work best, i suppose, with going from as opposed to going to. so if you have something, an idea, unfinished material you would like to collab on in some sense...send it to Blupoetess@hotmail.com . you're the better writer, so expect your part to be dragged down a few notches by mine. lol. but oh well. collab!
Blu -
naikipet me on March 6, 2005When I'm not writing, I'm a writer....
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Asterick on March 1, 2005You are a snail.
You reproduce with other snails to make more snails.
I hope you're a happy snail, coming into my garden and eating holes in my thick petal roses that I would usually cut down for my grandmother, but don't, on account of the disgraceful little holes now in my flowers.
But, I think you're cute. I think there should be a giant garden made for snails, all over the world, and snails could live in luxury and have orgies and eat all KINDS of flowers.
And no one would have salt.
Once, when I was about seven, I found a snail by our community water hose. I ran back to my apartment and came back to the snail with a little bottle of salt. I shook the bottle of salt over the snail and watched him bubble and sizzle for a few secoonds. Then, I got the hose, turned it on a little, and washed the snail off. I ran to check the mail, and came back to the snail, who had slimed away only a little ways. I shook a little more salt at him and watched him fizz, and enjoyed this little spectacle. Several more times, in fact. Burning him, then washing him. Waiting.
I've never eaten a snail before. But maybe they are salty. Or maybe you're just making a contradiction and laughing at me. That's okay too.
Here I am, coming to your page with all this craziness and cruel talk of snails.
Don't worry though. -
--Cherry Bomb on February 18, 2005The background confuses me.
On the other hand, the bunnys are cute.
Kati. xo -
almostthesea on February 15, 2005I am glad it's the 15th. My voice has disappeared due to a bad cold/sore throat. You should hear it. I can't even squeal. Hell, I'll send you a file of me talking if you tell me your email. I did all these impersonations and... yeah, I'm not lame like that pfft.
I dropped the picture in coffee with Paint Shop Pro. I wanted it to have a purple/brown/yellow/orange/sepia theme, like those old, old photographs. I love the look of those old, old photographs. Thankya for the 'pretty' compliment. I always disliked my little asian nose. Rah.
John will have his pants on, I assure you.
Halls Cough Drops,
Ishtar -
almostthesea on February 15, 2005Aww, Chris. You were short... *squeal*.
And fuck that bitch. What a whore.
I used to try to write poems when I was little. They were bad, cliche and immature, of course. It's funny how perspectives change. Anyhoo, yes it is why we've turned into silver. "God bless God's damnation on all that man creates" - damn right.
Happy Valentines Day to you as well, though this holiday kind of makes me want to gag. I appreciate warmth, though, so I appreciate you wishing me a good one.
Pilgrims,
Ishtar, the 60s Bob Dylan groupie.
Edited on Feb 15, 2:24 because 'stupid bold-ening of words'. -
almostthesea on February 15, 2005Hee, I do love those burning bunnies. Good thing about website problems and breakdowns, huh? Customisation for a week. Actually, I was bummed out that the comments had been lost, as most of them (particularly from you and a few others) kind of had some weight with them and meant something to me, you know? Like all the niceness went bye-bye. It was sad.
But I think it's all fixed now, they're back. I sure can't wait to be stuck in traffic. Does London have as bad traffic as say, New York and L.A.? Well. I think after college and work, I'll settle down in Romania and have myself a big grass field with a tree in the middle and a library and antique store. I've always wanted that. You are invited to come anytime you would like.
I do love that Fort poem. That's why I haven't been able to take it down for a long time. It's so good. And there are no periods, which is somewhat of a detriment but overall, it affects relatively nothing. Good stuff. Smells like pine-sol around here. That's my favorite smell. I sniff that stuff like mad. By sniff I mean, actually for the smell.
Pies,
Ishtar, the lonely carrot. -
almostthesea on February 5, 2005is there, i wonder, an antidote to save the slug? because i wouldn't like it to die. it's too pretty and nice. i should have been drunk and high on ****** tonight but i couldn't make it to the teaparty, i got into a fight with the hare/hair and it was bloody.
you are born again. i suppose once that happens, you begin dying. i laugh at my jokes. i laugh at their jokes. i laugh at your jokes, unless they're not jokes and they make me sad. are your feet cold? because if they are, dear chris, you should apply some warm woolly socks on your elbows. let's not be scared. let's pretend we're superheroes and that we save the world from people like us or them or this/that. you can be the superhero of typing and i will just be ishtar, the loner. i like reading certain people too (wink) and i think maybe somewhat i suppose so i guess that i might just i don't know like writing. perhaps. you get your rest. tomorrow, lucifer comes again, holding in his empty belly: light.
turn off that static.
Edited on Feb 05, 1:48 because '"aditode". after ten pm when i'm bored i get incoherent (kind of like being high, and i giggle at everything) and spell things COMPLETELY WRONG, and that irks me. want a cookie?'. -
almostthesea on February 4, 2005Actually, I did slyly give credit. The smoke and curls and curly smoke and smokey curls part or whatever the fuck it was, I forgot. Bob Dylan "Visions of Johanna", one of my favorite songs from him. The automatic words and images he conjures up when I think of him is his curly mop of hair and cigarette smoke, along with the harmonica and the tired face.
Yes, it is good to be back (meaning you). May I ask why the name change to 'Salty Snail'? It's quirky. -
almostthesea on February 4, 2005I USED TO POUR SALT ON SNAILS AND THEY EXCRETED GREEN SLIME AND WRITHED.
Thanks for coming back. -
almostthesea on January 9, 2005wonsaponatime
there were two balloons named bob and vanya. bob was the devil's spawn (and a girl, i should add). vanya was an intellectual. their strange magnetic fields attracted each other and both ended up popping after engaging in too much sexual balloon activity.
vanya wore rubber.
congradulashons. you're 8 January 1915's big winner! -
April Renee on December 26, 2004Hello! I'm sure to read every poem of yours that I have yet to read Did you forget I write as well. You haven't read anything of mine in forever! Why is that? lol. I'm just kidding. You have some good stuff here. Your author's page poetry is good, too. ( say that 10 times in a row real fast. lol ) Good job.
Blu -
myrataal on December 23, 2004May the greatest Gift of all will be a joyous reality in your life, dearest Soul.
Thank you for all the words shared - we grow within the Word, Jesus the Christ ...
Love
Myra -
static on December 13, 2004Please do all you can to help this young man, he has a rare desease. I am doctor Static, and I have diagnosed Cristos, with Chronic Poetic Growth, unfortunatly I once had the same diagonsis, I was cured. Help this man out. He needs it
Edited on Dec 13, 10:44 because ''. -
Bad Poet on December 8, 2004Cristos, my dear, look who has returned! Doth thou remember me?
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Odyssey on November 9, 2004
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almostthesea on October 31, 2004sway with me, everything sad -
madmen in stone houses
without doors,
lepers streaming love and song
frogs trying to figure
the sky;
sway with me, sad things -
fingers split on a forge
old age like breakfast shells
used books, used people
used flowers, used love
I need you
I need you
I need you:
it has run away
like a horse or a dog,
dead or lost
or unforgiving.
'sway with me' mr. chinaski (smells like cigarettes and whiskey)
P.S.
...his heart
Inflamed with Venus. Never did a young man fancy
With so eternal and so fixed a soul. -
April Renee on October 27, 2004hello back
good going, take care
~*~blu~*~
Edited on Oct 30, 8:53 p.m. because ''. -
imagesofagirl on October 13, 2004only a surreal skittle would say that cookies are made from your desires.
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poetryality on October 10, 2004Just dropped by to say HELLO! Hope all is well with you!
Hola! Como esta usted? -
almostthesea on October 8, 2004El Chris,
You are a wonderful soul.
Your page went from 'fuck you' to 'I'd love to fall in love with you.' Very strange, I wonder if there is someone on this site to whom all of this goes to. Or maybe just the general reader.
Ah, but I won't ponder any more. Just my luck, I am grateful that you appreciate the poem. I was hoping it would lift your spirits somewhat. I felt that you were sad.
Sincerely,
la Eddie (I'm taking Spanish. Who knows, I might be half-fluent soon.)
Edited on Oct 08, 1:20 because ''el' is masculine. i am not. oh, i don't know.'. -
almostthesea on October 7, 2004The Window - Diane di Prima
you are my bread
and the hairline noise
of my bones
you are almost
the sea
you are not stone
or molten sound
i think
you have no hands
this kind of bird flies backwards
and this love
breaks on a windowpane
where no light talks
this is not the time
for crossing tongues
(the sand here
never shifts)
i think
tomorrow
turned you with his toe
and you will
shine
and shine
unspent and underground. -
almostthesea on August 18, 2004"
o, pablo neruda? it only hits me now.
don't think i don't notice how you never answer any "how are you?"'s. i suppose i'll leave that to be and tell you
that i hope all is well
that i hope your day fares well, aswellaswell
that i hope your dreams aren't troubling you
that you are warm blankets (wink)
."
;whocantellnowwhatiswhichandwhichiswhat
Edited on Sep 01, 9:50 p.m. because 'the sea is dry at night'. -
Asterick on August 18, 2004Hello Mister Chrissy.
I finally read the poem you left on my page, which was very cute indeed. ^.^
I got banned for a month, so, yes, but I'm back now.
Thanks -
Asterick on June 12, 2004Wings stir the sunlit dust
of the cathedral in which
the Past is buried
to its chin in marble.
Hello, shall I mop or dry first?
Other Simmons -
pencapchew on May 12, 2004a different face
each time i look into the mirror
a lie for every validated honest answer
(and i have new shoes
and my hair is growing longer)
a blue smile
with
dreams
tumbling down the wishing well.
like battered human hands
reaching up to touch the sun.
[I am beneath you.]
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