http://slow.writerscafe.org/TheSlattern The original writings of author The Slattern en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776043739 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I have a lovely painting and typography arrangement for this http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1167111/ Rolled up notes and temporary ecstacyBottled water, table-top bullshitSquares and rectangles - corridors of little personalityMy life is not a circle of hallwaysMemories are not organizedExpress myself? I do notFor perhaps I am busy expressing somebody elseIf I were to use objects and clothing to ex.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1167109/ in progress, forever http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1163887/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1163867/ dust collecting like snow beneath the fireplace cocooned bodies tiny waistsbulky, hasty hands, that grab and stealreflections… reflections… in mirrors, and in eyeshe scopes for the same things i do, i know itor i wouldn’t care to looksmokey knives and bloodshot eyes, are secrets .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1157468/ I have replaced him with the knifeFor the knife makes me feel more than he doesI have had to push them, bothUnlike him, the knife does not resistSo now the night time is always the knife timeFor the night time is when I reminisce http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1156912/ Peace is food for the soulAnd I am starvingBecause no part of me is at peaceI am not at peaceI am at peace with no part of meNo part of me is at peace, with anything elseI am perpetually starvingAnd I watch it like a film I dream of starring inI watch the stars; I cannot feed off themFor the tidal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1155192/ she is painted thinly in acrylics on the glass casing of each of his eyesso he sees her at all times, whatever he’s looking athe may be able to escape her through dreams for they are made of lands seen with the mind,but she’s scarred unto each of his memoriesso he’s haunted throu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1151942/ (I think I must want to be abused)A seed is buried within us when we arrive here, in these ill timesThe seed that needs desire, approval and lust in order to bloomWhether or not you permit it's growthIt will stretch upward and outward, begging to be lovedCraving atten.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1151361/ They're all so prying with their pick-toothed tongues...; 'Who are you?' 'Summarize your virtues' 'TELL me who you are''Feed me your self with an honest gold spoon' 'Define your life's agenda and add it to the dictionary aside your [name]'Do you not know, how to know a person?You ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1151336/ I do not believe I am guilty. Not if guilty is anything but the natural disposition of being human. I am laughing, at the state of the situation, not at anyone's expense. I have not set my sights on uncouth matters; my desires have a mind of their own, so I cannot apologize for them. However, I can .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1147872/ I dream of himSpilled over me like hot water on a brisk Winter's eveI could soak in his tenderness for daysMy eyes are elocutionists;See them droop, as I breathe in steamThat rises from this body that moulds itself around mePerfectlySee them glaze, as I sink to a drugged and docile stateOf delicious.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1147718/ I wonder how small the universe looks from the outsideYou see, I was thinking about the world inside of meThinking about all the thinking and... how much 'space' it must takeLike tapeworms feeding of the sights my eyes intakeWhich led me to realize that, in fact, it doesn't take spaceIt creates itJu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1144939/ I hold ‘Love’ paradoxially as a concept, and in my own manifestation of such… She is split right down her middle, into two beauties of different breeds; the nymph; the temptress; the Want - and the divine; the Mother; the soulful.Intellectually, she escalates; soars on wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1141896/ It is memory that conducts one’s soul to obsess, dwell, desire, missReminiscence. Nostalgia.One may recall the feeling of warm breath on his neckOr the caress of hungry, awe-filled eyes over his ownOne may sit at his tea-cup alone, uninspiredNothing ‘wants’ him as far as he can.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1141892/ And I set out on the futile mission to SLEEPAs if escaping could be so easyAs if cruelty would be so kindBlack rings like ripples in coffee cupsOutward and shakyI do not see through these holesI see blackly and vividly, but not clearlyThere'll be no over-enthusiasm hereNo white lines like lightening.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1139270/ I watched for what may constitute as 'too much Time',The heat rise from my coffee cup; embodiment; frail, playful wisps of grey and white vines climbing invisible wallsOn a back-drop of lonely passengers, walking single file, unawares, Straight to their deathsI held close to me the wish that I were .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1139263/ Once the dynamic human spirit is ripped, and torn into obscurity, can it be restitched with compassion needles, or does it float into oblivion? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1139255/ J http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126115/ A small tug on my ankle from the beast that wants only to hurt and destroy me was enough to have me willing sink into it’s arms,For a small tug is the most anything has and will ever try to claim me, embrace me or need me to go onIn whatever fashion.I’d rather be devoured by the beast, t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126108/ She’s an inviting smileA soft tickle under the chin From a set of shiny, whimsical clawsThat makes me forget what I’m fighting for.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126103/ Screaming and Silence, are exactly the same.As poetic as that is, I have a serious problem with it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126100/ Something is holding me Something that doesn’t know it is holding me   And if it knew  It wouldn’t want toThe very essence of you.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126098/ You can only reap what you sewPush us to the shadowsWhere you beganAnd we will emergeThe same way that you didTo meet a different lightUniversal lightTogether, anonymouslyImpersonallySelflesslyWith tactWith learned knowledge of our oppositionFor we have been forced to live and breathe them our ent.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126094/ I lack confidence in, and add falseness to my voiceAs if I did not believe my own wordsHow should anyone else believe me?Perhaps, it is the ambiguity of everythingPerhaps, it is because I wear my troubles like a loud headdressI am dressed in doubtWhat better reason to question delusion in .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126093/ Beryl,You are old as I am youngDo you lie?Is that the difference between you and I?That I am truthful no matter how the truth knives at my soulAnd you keep in your sights magics, faiths, ‘God’Yet your eyes look doubtful,Doubtful and downLike they don’t believe it, and you don&rsquo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126091/ 1st August, 2012 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126083/ 1st August, 2012 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126069/ Wednesday, 1st February, 2012 ... 16:44 - (oh my oh my) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126068/ 16th September, 2012 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126063/ 16th September, 2012 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126058/ 16th September 2012 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126055/ Am I obsessed with 'splitting'? Perhaps. (theory) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126053/ 9th August, 2012 Part two of a huge bender; The Time Sphere. JUST A THEORY. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126050/ 9th August, 2012 The Time Sphere - another theoretical, possibly awful *bender of the head, my head, that is. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126048/ 7th August, 2012 I speak only in theory, but they are jolly good theories, if I do say so myself. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126047/ 17th September, 2012 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126045/ It’s been a while, since I’ve been so wrapped up in ‘the Time Sphere’ and gender, and instinct… Something was smashed in my face today in my anthropology class, referring back to the beginning of the homosapien, or whichever breed of human it was that first s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126042/ 17th September, 2012 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1126041/ this list will grow. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125463/ (and stars, too) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125462/ And from now on, so you shall seeI’ll speak in only poetry For it’s the better part of meAnd helps to set my soul at easeThat with the tools I do possessThough slow and soft, at very bestI can sift out from all the messSome passion, some mind and some fiery finesse  A.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125461/ You found me in a mountain caveThey left me there so long agoThat I could not remember what daylight had looked likeYou swept me up, told me that I could get out of the darkThat I could stop hurtingYou took me to a radiant lakeside woodlandStood me in the beams of sunlight and watched me smile for a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125458/ silly. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125455/ The not-so-delicate flowers of the 21st century farcethey are worse to keep the company of than the drooling beasts themselvesFoolishness, that stretches so far That even when it is mockedAnd hauled back at them in balls of patronizing laughter They will, merrily, continue to fla.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125452/ I pick at the scabs on my knuckles that are trying to close up on what the stabbing of my teeth left behindI try to pry them open as if expecting to find some salvation underneath the layers of skinAs if I could locate the beast in the tissue and drag him out by his toesThe scabs sit screa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125446/ I don't know, I don't DO titles. Insistant little machine. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125444/ 14th October, 2012 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125430/ Human beings are the rebellion against LifeWe are defiant of Mother Nature herselfWe are Death, dancing around like loose leaves in the windWith Life’s waist in our handsOur every expression of creationIs being pulled from the very core of existenceA place that is not reachable from the physic.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125421/ It’s not that perfection does not existSimply that, nothing is perfectNothing is the only instance of perfectionStillnessNo linesNo Time, no physicsJust the still sphereWith having nothing with which to consciously perceive itBasically,NothingnessAs long as lines penetrate circl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheSlattern/1125412/