• The heavy hands pounded relentlessly upon the taut flesh of the rune-worked skin. THRUM. THRUM. THRUM. THRUM. The monotonous tone banged into her ears like the ringing song of her own blood, her own body the dance that moved in sync to the drummers’ powerful sound.

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, lift 2 years, 11 months ago

    The upswing of my spirits, the archetypal swing of my soul skywards as I read this like a Rorschach Blot

  • And in this manner we communicate, or we both attempt to. Your indigance flares like a siren, lights flashing red and blue eyes like streetlights blasting, and my own stare is weary and dull, like an old bulb fading.
    I try to explain what happened, and in interlocution your hands cut intersections like stale tupperware waving sadly.
    I guess we…[Read more]

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, trails 4 years, 11 months ago

    You know I go down these trails that constantly lead to thoughts of you.. so close yet so far because you are invincible, untouchable, unable to find a pathway to you

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, falter 5 years ago

    With these steps, I do. We light fires without them ever catching flame upon us. You sit beside me, glowing, and my embers ash into nothing but cold coals. I know this is true, I know it must be. But still, I stumble, I falter, I make blind motions without knowing, that they always seem to lead me to a seat or place beside you.

  • And this is where you left us
    Building up outside of the wire-screen door
    Like the sand piles of ants
    Ready to revel in the fire of Wednesday nights.
    We came to bid you hello
    But now it seems we bid you farewell
    As we raise our glass of Jim Beam
    and spit the remnants into your dusty footprints beside the garden,
    Giving thanks for all you…[Read more]

  • Be it a person, place or thing, it is that near-unreachable something that always escapes you by just a whisper or a wink, something so subtle as to elude you barely, but completely.
    In a riddle it lies tucked into soundlessness, quietness, a softness of body and bones at rest.
    It is not, though. It cannot be.
    Everything is always moving.

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, compete 5 years, 7 months ago

    Compete. The thing to place individuals against one another, struggling against that other word, companionship.
    How we race, churn, fight, and burn.

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, revenue 5 years, 9 months ago

    Revenue; such a word of seemingly mundane proportions, overly boring daily bills, costs, fiances, yadda yadda…
    Such seemingly droning things that support our socioeconomic world. The cause for love to rift and arguments to take hold of sweet words stopped in the mouths of men and women without enough…

  • Like the thin thread of our daily lives, it weaves along slowly, waving in the wind like spiders’ hands, so fragile that it hardly matters, but matter it is, made of hopes and aspirations, solid breath dangling in patterns woven into quilts of comfort during sleepless nights

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, arts 6 years, 11 months ago

    Ars longa, vida briefa. I have indeed forgotten the proper Latin translation of that quote, but it is indeed true. I would like a cigarette and some whiskey to keep writing

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, turbine 7 years, 3 months ago

    Windmills, whipporwhills, Don Quixote chasing spiraling hearts sifting grain in the skies. I shed kernels of sorrow and termpermental seeds gone sour, rotten soil spilling into the wind like the foul breath of jealousy’s mane

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, soups 7 years, 3 months ago

    I stir the corn starch and charcoal with water, creating a gray soup, half matter half invention. I only want to create something destructive, ugly and beautiful and perfectly gelatinous like my feelings. I am a […]

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, maze 7 years, 8 months ago

    She;s my Babylon, halfhearted labyrinth of misfigured sensation, causing more than complications to this maze that we call life. When courtship falls into walls of evergreen sorrow, despairing that the fulfillment […]

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, epic 7 years, 8 months ago

    It is the ascension of an epitome, the icon of an era and the eminence of an age.
    It is something that culminates the fantastic, and makes worthy the title of ‘outrageous’.
    It is grandiose, magnanimous, […]

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, beehive 7 years, 8 months ago

    Hivernating, a swarm of saffron stings all swinging about the cylinder like small octaves f sound reverberating in hums of a lyrical dance. Counting the stamens on flowers stems streaming with dew, praying with tiny black feet and seeking nothing with glassy black obsidian eyes, shining like dead wet rocks

  • I think of stars, first of all, twinkling and blinking likes so many eyes cast upon a moon-lit gem, illuminated in the night like some sort of miraculous eye. I think of grains of sand caught unawares in the glimpse of a hot summer sun, fractured into millions by disillusioned sight on a blacktop, a […]

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, dozen 7 years, 9 months ago

    A dime a dozen is what most people say.. but what does that mean? Does it mean we are special, “worth it”? What does worth really mean? Does it imply significance? A chance at something meaningful or complete? My room mates are having beautiful love in the ext room, and I find that worth at […]

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, carved 7 years, 9 months ago

    Avocado. A word sounding so ancient in the syllables that round, harden, open and close. They are parellels to the mouth moving, carving out consonants as I spoon feed the slivers of green flesh into my wine-warmed mouth. How sensual is it to curve something into a mouth, to smooth a C into soft flesh […]

  • MorganLovell commented on the post, hurry 7 years, 10 months ago

    In such as this I run to my words like a time traveler, rushing to get to the rabbit hole. I speak volumes through my fingers flying across a new lined notebook page, seeking more and more and more in the spines of books lying by and in the wood of my desk as of […]