love-new-artists

What does the crow know of life Of the tree’s history that holds its tiny feet Of soil that cradles worms delicious and fat Likely nothing What does it know of secretive wind Or where the currents of cold whispers started As they ruffle feathers on the way through landscapes Likely nothing At dawn, it simply gets up with the sun To consume light with blackness of its eyes Keeping the world undisturbed Keeping itself without leaving many traces Not labelling Not worrying how voices in its head Seek to rend and tear the mind apart I wish I could be that crow So full of nothing

We go about our days in our usual chaotic ways, completing the tasks that will slowly drive us insane. Soul‑dead conformists try to tell me what to think. Flesh‑colored platitudes dissolve inside their invisible sinks. My attic is swept clean, the curtains are drawn. A black helicopter has just landed on my yard. Pinpricks of light try to clear up the fog, but the oxy high is still holding on. It’s a new dawn, unravel your smiles and loosen your tongue. Time to spill forth some more drivel and dung. Dead ants lay on my windowsill. I torch their remains with a hundred‑dollar bill. Life is lonely inside this jail. The hours just meander, and the sky refuses to answer me. My shadow crawls across the floor trying to escape the man, I’ve become. I hear white static noise where my being used to be. I taste metallic death every time I breathe. The world keeps spinning like a rusted old carousel. No music. No lights. Just the grind of dying machinery. I whisper to the swirling

Happiness is finding music I agree Finding the music deep inside me Happiness is sharing a smile enough Happiness is giving my dog my Love A hug , a warm kind word everyday Happiness is finding faith I have to say I have to say that it is gonna be alright It is gonna be alright with trust by my side With trust by my side I like to sing or dance I love to dance within every circumstance I find the believers and the dreamers I see Dreamers and believers are erasers of reality Jill

Walked into the woods on a rainy, dreary eve, just to find my scarred body lying dead among the leaves. Now I can’t remember yesterday, but tomorrow is strangely clear. Do you recall the pain of your birth, or the strange awakening upon your death? Children of the forest are singing just for me painting me a picture only my soul can see. I love you all, though your spirits pass through me like the cold shame of collapsing galaxies. I sense the warmth you hold so dear, and seek the comfort that is always near. Awaken now to a world of plastic imagery, false dreams, and the morbid reality of a self‑induced robotic haze. Play, don’t be afraid. You’re only byproducts of their hidden rage. Taken from you is all they can’t explain, then you’re cast aside to do the same. Cold, pale faces frolicking in virgin snow Pilgrims of the new dawn, fumbling and stumbling to become part of something they cannot understand. Watch as the forest dissolves into pulses of neon starlight Roots

Music gives me the wings to fly Music gives me hope so I can try I can try and I can often believe I can fly and everyday I do receive I receive the good and the wrong I know where I always like to belong I know where the Love and Light I can find I know it will be alright It is gonna be alright so I still fight I fight for to change and I feel alive Ready now for to let go my old life My old life change sudden into new I don't deserve people who knew Who knew my demons and shadows I deserve people who's love flows Who's love flows and grows inside me I deserve not people who give me pain I know now how I can dance in the rain I know how I can change my negative mind Thankful for the fragile past I leave behind Because these days I feel good and I find A find also a little bit more happiness now I let go all the people who hurt me somehow Jill Dedicated to @Lonewolf-Sparrowhawk

Give Women the Damn Keys by p.b. wells I have reached a decision. From now on, if a woman runs against a man, she gets my vote. I don’t need a twenty-page platform, three endorsements from dead senators, or some grinning bastard on television explaining electability. history is her endorsement. look at the record. who started most of the wars? men. who stood over maps moving armies around like little toy soldiers, then sent somebody else’s children to die in the dirt? men. who built the camps, filled the mass graves, burned the villages, stacked skulls, erased tribes, and called it destiny or God’s divine will? men. who still relish battle so long as the battlefield is five thousand miles away and their dinner is served at seven? men. and here in America, who has held the majority in every Congress since the beginning? men. after two hundred and fifty years of speeches, committees, backroom deals, bankruptcies, bailouts, bribes, deficits

Me and Elmer by p.b. wells I was walking 51st with Elmer, and the city was doing that thing it does. steam pouring out of grates, trash bags ripped open at the seams, piss stinking up the curb, some half-dead pigeon flapping against a lamppost. and then the beautiful Gershwin, big and glowing, with its green witch faces plastered across the brick, promising spectacle and salvation for the price of a hundred-dollar ticket. People weren’t looking at the signs, though. they were looking at us. correction. they were looking at Elmer, but I was caught in the blast zone. they pulled back like we were fire. not casual sidesteps, not the usual city shrug, but full-on leaps into traffic, horns screaming, tires squealing, like they’d rather be flattened by a bus than brush shoulders with us. New Yorkers don’t give you space. they’ll shove you down a stairwell and call it progress. but that day the whole sidewalk cracked wide open, and for a minute I wondered if I was losing my mind, if

Please stop standing on my grave. I don't need your mourning I don’t need your pain I'm tired of your sorrow I just want you to walk away. I wasn't any good I know I'm to blame. I could never go long without doing wrong. The universe keeps a tally, and my bad deeds finally caught up to me. I’m sorry if that makes you sad But please, baby, walk away Find a new life with someone sane. Please shed no more tears for me. I'm finally where I'm meant to be. You know it’s true. I earned this grave. So please, baby, walk away. Our love was like a tidal wave That we both knew would crash one day. So, walk away. Leave me to my grave. Some things just aren’t meant to last. The brightest flames burn out too fast. Please let the dark cover over what we once were. And just let my name sink softly into the waiting earth.

People talk about indoor cats and outdoor cats, but I doubt cats see the world that way. To a cat, there is only caged or uncaged If the door is closed, they are caged When it is open they are uncaged I wish more humans could see the world this way Because a creature uncaged remembers what humans have forgotten. Nature is our true home; a house is only a temporary shelter We sometimes choose to lock ourselves in. Nature should be protected and cherished more than our houses For the world can only heal when we choose to open the door.