Your laugh is so genuine and hearty, it brings a smile to my face. I want to tumble down hills that echo, cover, fill, and ooze with your laughter. Rolling in its sweet highs and lows, surrounded by fluttering butterflies, sun beams, swirling mists, and my ever deepening want to hang onto you with myContinue reading “Your beautiful laughter”
I don’t know why you do the things that you do, but baby, can I kiss you? Can I put my arms around you and bury my nose on your neck. Gently brush your hair, look back at how amazing you are, how sweet your lips taste, how delicate your breath–how fragile your spine; asContinue reading “I dont know why, but can I?”
The more you see how temporary everything is, the more you want to be extremely nice to everybody. Reminders, from today To the war veteran on the wheelchair, sitting outside on a warm day The young woman alone with a child To the young man huddled in the comfort of his cheap phone The beggarContinue reading “Nice to everybody”
Today I sat there thinking I’m 18 years old and looking at the sky. I was lying on the grass with a book, but hell, I can never concentrate. The winds gushed, the clouds darkened, a wimpy little thunder growled, and I felt happy. 2002/08/12
Shivering at night in the cold, dark chamber Sweating and suffocating Hallucinating; losing ground and the center within Lost and unable to be found; stuck in a limbo Needing sweet, sweet love And much understanding
Originally posted on Projectoras.com:
JD Samson former member of the feminist punk band Le Tigre, shows director Barbara Anastacio around her Brooklyn flat – Read the feature on NOWNESS. My Apartamento: JD Samson – NOWNESS from NOWNESS on Vimeo.
Stumbling across unknown happy artists who are having fun, and spreading the joy to anyone and everyone willing to listen
Maybe I am that person who walked out of the gathering early Maybe I’m forever doomed to be an anomaly Too honest amongst a hoard of fake smiles Yet guarded enough to be confusing And sensitive enough to be a diva.
The bloke at the airport. London town, all year around. With heavy London accent and a surprisingly friendly assistance. Took ama across the airport; an old one pushing one older. Tattoos on his arms indicate years of wrong decisions. But this is London town, his home, his land, and his particular accent says it all.Continue reading “The bloke at the airport”
The ride down the lane; down the tube like straight roads of my memory. Blurred visions outside of lights passing by amid the darkness. The lack of conversation and the lack of memory of the few brief things we talked about. I was too consumed with comfort of a ride home from the place IContinue reading “To be like him”
The smell of maple leaf
It’s somewhere in between the orange and the blue hues of a sunset, somewhere in the horizon where the sky meets the ocean I don’t even recall who you are nor which one but your voice holds me, unclothes me, caresses, kisses and spins me, as we dance in the shower of raining orange flowersContinue reading “Somewhere on a horizon”
I’m never confined, when I’ve got love with me 20160725