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Hot Box Tree House
I’ve hidden myself away in a plume of smoke, deep in the crevasse of quantum mechanics. The void in between choice and not. Action and inaction. Behind a shrubbery at the fork in the road. My shell—this burning bush of a womb, I’ve hotboxed myself into a treehouse above my own decisions.
By Joke Marfsky8 years ago in Poets
Fly Free
Birds do not belong in cages, their wings are there as proof, they belong to fly up high, higher than your roof. Birds do not belong in cages trapped behind those bars, they belong to sour up high right next to twinkling stars.
By Andriea Munkelt8 years ago in Poets
Drop of Hope
She's walking down the street. Looking like an ordinary, small piece of an enormous grey mass. Soft wind touching her dark, satin hair as her forest green eyes childishly follow slowly moving clouds in the sky. She has so much to say... Yet stays quiet. She's silent, for she's afraid to be left misunderstood.
By El G8 years ago in Poets
The Little Death
This dull ache fills the void in the pit of my stomach with warmth. The smell of her perfume. The taste of her skin. Here we are again, tangled between sheets,
By Rauce The-sauce8 years ago in Poets
The Way of the Crab
The Way of the Crab— Adventuring in zig-zag formation. We don’t do straight lines here—everything becomes more tangential than that, but by all means, we arrive at the same location. I just take longer to get there.
By Joke Marfsky8 years ago in Poets
The Stone and The Traveler
The night was dense with the musk of the sound. The scent of which filled the nostrils and choked the hopeful. Alone, amongst a group of strangers, shrouded by the smoke of cigarettes ignored stories and fabrications, a lone Stone shone bright. The light of the moon cascading down her twisted bounty: Side eye glances pierced the armor of the a traveler stuck in the time. That one glance eliminated all the questions that surrounded the traveler: he no longer consumed the by the night, He was enamored by her atmosphere. The whiskey blurred his mind, yet his vision was crystal clear.
By Stephen Jones8 years ago in Poets
It's "Hard" Not to Love The Neighbourhood's New EP
After a short hiatus following their tour promoting their second album, Wiped Out!, the Southern California alternative band marked their reactivation with a new EP in the latter half of September.Exhibiting dark, cloudy vibes since their debut EP in 2012, The Neighbourhood's new EP, Hard, dares to dig deeper into the band's cool, angsty, hip-hop/R&B flavored alternative music. While the California 5-piece has always held fast to their sense of experimentalism, this new project shows signs of THE NBHD expanding even more on their atmospheric sound. From the beginning to the end of the EP, the band demonstrates how they have honed their skills in exhibiting their shady moods through their music.
By Sean Martin8 years ago in Beat
Misery
You look at me in disgust—but there is nothing new here. A disappointment in love, family, life— Scholarly mucked about. And scrambled—a druggie, junkie, perceived to be, what I may be if all we are are our actions.
By Joke Marfsky8 years ago in Poets