TBF Features – June 20, 2010


“Run your fingers through my soul. For once, just once, feel exactly what I feel, believe what I believe, perceive as I perceive, look, experience, examine, and for once; just once, understand.”

It’s time to experience the passions of life through the eyes of someone else. Be prepared to be awash with emotion from the following features.

Water Souls by Ming Myaskovsky

for Mariette by Wingpoem

And we talk
Of lambs and doves
Trust and friendship
Marriage and poetry
And we play
In deepest sincerity
Vulnerability
And nakedness
And we love
For what else is there?
And we laugh
Because we need to
And we cry
Because we can’t hold back
And we come together
Because it fulfills
Everything

New Beginnings by Cherie Sayer

new beginnings by cherie sayer

The Number © by Hector A. Encinas

I want you to know.
I’m not coming back.
Shut the screen off and,
look into my eyes,
Before I go.
I’m not coming back.

If my soul had been a dog.
I would have drowned it,
At birth.

I keep thinking of the dirt nap.
And my mouth buzzes’ like a fridge.
I don’t know myself anymore;
And I don’t know my nature,
Like I probably should.

If I could,
Keep writing what I write.
What comes to me from inside;
Somewhere.

I wouldn’t want to.
I wouldn’t,
Want to know who I am.
I don’t.

Ill take the midnight drive.
Tonight;
A hundred past miles an hour.
I’ll take the midnight drive.
Tonight;
And take that final flight,
Off the road,
And into eternal night.
Where I’ll see death in the eyes with o fear.

I want you to know.
I’m not coming back.
Look into my eyes,
I’m not coming back.
I’m not coming back………….

(And for a minute there, I lost my self.
Then,
I remembered her.)

I lost my self, deep in her soul.
That light that I had thought extinct,
From the human soul.
There,
It was.
She was something to have faith and hope for.
Something I had lost in complete.

Id found myself in the dodos conundrum.
Wanting to take flight,
And not having the wings to do so.

I lost my self, deep in her soul.
Almost like falling in love with something you don’t know.
I came back to life.
That night,
On the midnight drive.

And for a minute there, I lost my self…..
I lost my self…..

She did quite “the number” on me that night.

Keys by Cherie Sayer

inhaling the heaven or hell of you by Kristin Reynolds

I wish I could say
i smelled you coming
from a mile away—
but all angel’s scents
are one in the same:

graveyards, birthdays,
static and gold,
weapons and blood,
darkness and light.

One way or
another:
you found me

and i
breathed you

in.

© Kristin Reynolds 6 19 2010

ironing out the matters of the heart by helene ruiz

ironing out matters of the heart by helene ruiz

everything and you. by Alondra Blick

It’s really like a symphony, if you listen close enough. Deep enough. Drunk enough. The difference is, I liked classical music, until I met you. I never liked beer, until the taste was like your lips meeting mine, the first time when we were shy. It felt uncomfortable in an exhilarating way. The millions of miles of skin that were still unknown. The lives and the friends and the habits and the way you moved in bed, worried to wake me, unsure of my sleeping patterns or how I’d like to be held. And the feeling of your body, returning to the sheets still damp with soap and a shower taken before waking hours. I would have liked to love you then. Would have liked to picture us standing still, eyes awake and unchanging while the blurred lines of light and lives and memory rushed by us. I would have loved to watch our bodies tumble down the years, gracious and quiet. And on the first night, I dreamt you had changed your mind, and so I buried my head into your back and spent a minute just memorizing the moment. The feeling of your breath shaking your soft frame, and of the mingling of our skin, and the smell of you, and the delicate morning hesitating to push forward. But life moves heavy and quickly and the streets empty and fill like the sea and the waning moon, and small and large things grow steadily, and we are of no consequence. We do not listen to voices in sleep who whisper our mistakes. In another time perhaps, we would have mourned the past, and prayed and shaken the coating of winter from our shoulders, hushed and cold, and moved ahead to the sound of the ritual spring. But instead we gathered our clothes, arranged the morning and made remarks about the future, like it was a living thing that belonged to us. And from the kitchen I could hear the road soaking up the rain and see the mist soaring upwards each time a car or truck passed through. And soon all these things, and all the others would be fragments, nonsensical and vague. Part of a distant time. Mixed up with things that should not have been there. Cluttered halls, and strip malls and afterhours, and the moon, and bars, and cafes, and desperation, and routine, and strangers, and city lights, and admissions, and guilt, and the cold.
It’s really like a symphony, if you listen close enough.

blue profile by frederic levy-hadida

blue profile by frederic levy-hadida

Talk to me by Siki Dlanga

When you talk to me,
I forget that I exist.
Your words become me.

(c) siki dlanga
21.06.2010

mind set, 2010 by flovie

mind set 2010 flovie

Nobody’s Son by Trenchtownrock

I have had many saviors
hung around my neck
rosary prayer tears
fragrant offering
Buddha
Muhammad
the old and new Jesus
gully baptism
still can’t wash
stench of
what never was
what could never be
fingers
planted roots
in the earth’s surface
trying to be born
of something
rotted corpse
unearthed
the I am
without flesh
try to replant
seeped through skin
history’s seed
flourishing
my twenty first century
Golgotha
Pilate’s edict
head to toe
proclamation
midnight hanging
holy water
springing from veins
imperfect gods
becoming perfect
born to be sacrificed
I stopped being afraid
once my mama pulled me
from between her legs
stripping away the umbilical chain
looking at me with closed eyes
trying to stuff me back
in her tomb
a mother’s love
hymen doors closed
modern day Mary
without the immaculate daydream
job completed
heard through a baby’s cry.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “TBF Features – June 20, 2010

    • thank you tammera for letting us know your thoughts on this collection… we’re overwhelmed at TBF at the amazing amount of art to feature and display. please keep coming. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s