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| Username: | Briana Kassia | |
|---|---|---|
| Member Since: | Fri Jun 15 22:15:03 2001 | |
| E-mail: | antirbard at yahoo dot com | |
| URL: | http://bitchware.blogspot.com/ | |
| Chat: | SWG BM Vent | |
| Blender Board: | 113 comments | |
| letting go |
| I fought the war, but the war won. |
| adjusting to the alone again |
| /sigh |
| for Scott, stream of subconscious |
| sometimes hope comes hard |
| ...for Scott |
| yummm... for Scott, of course |
| a poem only a woman could write. for Scott, till Soon. |
| just a taste... for Scott |
| another exploration on the theme. For Scott... |
| for Scott |
| so much pain, so much hurt... all I have is you, Scott |
| cherry blossom haiku triad... for Scott |
| for Scott, even if he doesn't want to see it. |
| been percolating this one for a few years now... for Scott |
| finally, not hurting so much... for Scott |
| for Scott |
| alchemical referents aside, for Scott |
| A Poem A Day Challenge: see message board! this one's for Scott... :) |
| for Scott... ahhhh... |
| for Scott, on an ouchy morning |
| for Scott, as always, and in all ways |
| The good and the bad, ups and downs: twenty observations of a distant heart. (for Scott, as always) |
| inspirations are everywhere, a lot just on the discussion board. Laurel Ahlfield said she was hibernating till the candy hearts went away. Blame her. (And Scott, as always). |
| for Scott, as always, and in all ways |
| early morning, reconnection |
| stream of something, for Scott |
| waking to silence, wanting time to both hurry and slow..., for Scott |
| for Scott, some Halloween whimsy |
| for Scott |
| stormy night, and I tremble... for Scott |
| words along a path |
| on the spot words meandering, for Scott |
| apologies sometimes stick in the throat, but flow from the keys |
| edit of earlier piece |
| a reread and I found some things that needed something. for Scott, even more so. |
| romantic twaddle at it's best? |
| a reply to the recent divorce perspectives posted |
| the presence of absence; for Scott |
| still raw, for Scott |
| I need him magnetically. For Scott . |
| see what happens when someone brings up the classical romantic hero? |
| An edit and bump of homage to I'm Just Him's When they Tell Our Story |
| Awakening to find... |
| rough draft concept piece |
| Dreaming of the cabin, of Michigan in the fall... for Scott |
| loving the lazy, weekend morning... for Scott |
| entry in the contest |
| hearts caught in a war zone |
| for Scott, as always |
| for Scott |
| A pillow book is a collection of romantic and erotic musings writ down by a geisha and kept tucked under her pillow. There were accordion folded, often very small but long when opened all the way. I had one piece of paper on the bus, and these haiku came to mind... you know how that is, when you *have* to get something written down... |
| just a snapshot of my walk home... for Scott |
| (For the Record) |
| I blame Scott |
| concept I have been kicking around for a couple of weeks, finally finding expression... needs better title |
| a taste and a link to an interesting essay and conversation regarding love |
| A love letter to my man, early on a May morning |
| loosely structured work, more conceptual |
| stream of conscious writing isn't something I do often, but it sometimes has a startling effect |
| a revision of an work posted earlier this month... better now. :) |
| trying to find the words to tell him all that he has done for me... |
| last bump to i'm just him's "Heaven Only to Me" also a true story, part three |
| second bump to i'm just him's Heaven-ly piece, alos a true story, part II |
| bump to Heaven Only to Me by i'm just him, but also a true story, part one |
| still very raw, but potentially not bad... |
| Saturday night, my eyes full, your voice caught in your throat as you tell me again how loved I am... |
| Triggered by a foreshortened conversation... he is an artist |
| you... have that effect on me |
| I can never find the words, but thes come close |
| for Scott |
| A walk in the woods inspires a last minute challenge response |
| An ode to my sister, Julie. |
| art as an excercise in healing... a painting in progress |
| true haiku... |
| She doesn't realise she is my Muse |
| A fifty-fiver, very tightly edited from a fanfiction I'm working on... |
| It's amazing what the right combination of adjectives can produce... |
| passive flight is still flight |
| it's raw as yet, but I may hone it... simple rhyming quatrains attempting to express what it is I admire in my beloved |
| inspired by and loosely based on "words meet" by raven uriel and greydawn, posted here 03/07 by Jakarta. Some of their phrasing caught at me, but I wanted it to say something else... |
| Love grown comfortable |
| Picture a smokey room, a jazz trio: spare drums played with brushes, stand-up bass, and a nasty sax, and then the woman in the long blue dress takes the mic... |