Your thoughts, my thoughts, his thoughts. It’s all relative! If you were me, then sit right down and express yourself here. And though I know it’s rhetorical because my shoes are another man’s shoes. What is it that you think you can learn? Or do you only walk the mile and manipulate events to suit […]
Tag: prose
Good Morning
Using my hand to shade my eyes. Standing at the edge of the countryside. High atop a cliff seaside. The sun rising majestically out of the East. Early clouds ride the wavelengths of diffuse blue. My eyes seeing it all. But this morning is different. Everything covered in gold. The wind, warm against my […]
Alessandra Blurr
Turning my head sideways to view the city’s skyline. Its dark silhouette foreground to night. My feet level. Image blurs. Lines elongate. Leaning forward I pick up speed. Alessandra Blurr. By malakhai jones (C) copyright 2016 on image and copy by malakhai jones
Becoming
Losing the motion of my youth The energy of the newness Traveling past me, As the country-side past my jeep. Mellowing and developing taste, The Seasons, Nature retired to sweet repose Interred in frozen earth. Moorish in her appearance Breaths hang heavy in the air. I am becoming by malakhai jonezs © Copyright 2016 image […]
The Land of the Blind
I don’t know you. What you look like is a curiosity, but immaterial to the space you occupy in my mind. When we connect via written word and self expression, I now, know something of the most intimate nature about you. An image of you. A beautiful rose or a dark secret that’s a part […]
Radio Transmissions
“Trippin.. Just laid back and twisted on my mental Twist a note and place it between my lips Twisted into the shape of a paper horn Water bubbling Radio transmissions sounding Turning my lips to the air Succumbing to the seduction of the Sirens. I tumble down. Laughing at my awkward stumble.” by malakhai jones […]
The Bark: Excerpt from Stilettos
The bark lingers ever more upward overtaking our speed. Bridging the separation conceding to the quiet, watching… the infection spreading quickly, fevered nights born from the illness, sweating out the chemical on, too worn, a sofa, the cushions molded into submission – imprinted with its weight. “Such a dangerous thing to do — to fall in love.” Excerpt […]
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