3:00am

Touch me
Keep it deep
Hold all my faces
Don’t let me speak
They say
I won’t make it
I won’t make it
To 30
So I should
Take my chances

And they
Take advantage
In and out of season
The meter’s running
And they leave all
The best of you
Behind

And hey
There
Against the morning light
You hold my faces
taking my hand
write your name
It’s understood
We’ve been there and back again

And every time
The blanket comes
Like 3am over my emotions
You hold my faces
Staring into my eyes

Her lips are red
And I can taste every colour
Of this sunrise
They say I won’t make it
To 30
I take my chances …

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Origin (Ethan Bethune)

maison de verre

Glass House
IMG_4984.JPG
Image origin

Among the artist
In the city
The ‘feelers’
They keep bleeding
And all the
Rivers
They keep running
And all your
Headaches
They keep returning
You know you’re not well
Your mind is bleeding
It’s the pressure
Maybe it’s swelling
And all the nightmares
They keep returning
Standing
Just in the corner
It’s a wet blanket
It’s a timeline
It’s a shadow
It’s a legion

And all the rows of books
On the shelves
You keep counting
And all the Dr’s questions
They keep rotating
And you keep counting
And is this normal
Is this safe

And so you’re just asking
Is it worth it?
Will you be enough?
Is this too much?
Is this fair?
Who cares
It a micro issue
It’s a shadow
Madness
It runs in the family
It’s chemical
But influential
And now you’re walking
In the city
The rain keeps falling
But you don’t mind
It blankets
All the static
In your mind
And you don’t feel
Anything
The one time
When you feel normal
Like everyone else

Lettres de guerre #end

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Origin (unknown)

journal entry

I walk the city
I once knew
It fades
All around me
Unclear
The people
Moving
The graves outside
I am hollowed
But I am looking
With anxious eyes
I can’t remember anything
Very clear
What is different ?
What’s the same ?
And then
At the end of the street

I see her
In the garden
Digging
Flowers in her hair
She brushes her
Stubborn strands out of
Her eyes
And my heart
Is beating
And
I’m not as callous
As I feared
It’s not as dark as I believed
And
She is standing
Crying
Over there
Right there
And I am running now…
I am
Forgetting to breathe
Afraid that I will wake up
Before I touch her
I feel the earth
I see the people fading
I see her right there
I see her
I reach out
Her arms
Her lips
Her eyes
The salt of
Her tears
Her finger tips
This is real.
We are here.

end

lettres de guerre #10

IMG_4986.JPGOrigin unknown

journal entry

It’s cold outside
We suffer quietly inside
Glass homes
Their eyes are watching …
We haven’t Slept in years
We suffer paper skin
And scars
Casualties of war
They occupied
Our city
Just long enough
To take us outside
Lining the street
And shoot the men
And leave us to weep

I watched the snow turn
A crimson red
I watched my breath turn to ice
I watched my brother
Die ….inside my arms
Who killed us
In this war?
The alternatives
Are hesitation marks
From me and you

Everything in time…
What else is there
-Anastasia

1961

IMG_4928.JPG
Origin irving-penn-cigarette-and-lips-new-york-before-1961/

In the street
Between the picket signs
In a city
That’s always seeing
The worst of it
She holds
On to her cigarette
Like a concrete
Decision

Looking over the faces
All the
Hands with clinched fists
Hot blood and anger
She moves
Running to my table

She says it’s these
Hours
When we have
Time left to keep
And we talk so
Much about
Changing
But earth is not waiting
Forever
We need to do things
For us
We need to be open
We need to fight being
Frozen

Laughing
She brushes her hair from her face
And you can see the scars
On the inside of her arm
And she says
We all become our parents
And what we hate
choking on
Conditioned conversations
And the words
We don’t say
‘every life
Has suffering
And every life has loss and pain
That’s what makes it living’
She can’t remember who said it
But it doesn’t sound vain
And she lights another cigarette

looking outside
you almost feel
Like you’re looking backward in time
You almost feel different
Somehow
Forgetting
the need to explain yourself
And the restlessness
you see her
Golden hair
shifting in her seat
Her eyes on fire
Her nails championing
Last weeks polish
Bitten down
And you know
Somewhere in time
Looking back
The worst things
Will not be the things we fear
Or stay up thinking about
It will be unexpected casualties
From unexpected avenues
Born like impulsive words
And decisions
At that light
On that corner
In that minute …
Under cat calls
And knives
And even though
The world is flawed
With hot blood
And picket signs
You remember
A single phone call
On this day
For this year
Marking your calendar
For the rest of your life
It was the one that
Took her away

Thoughts on Self Publishing with Ethan Bethune

Ethan Bethune:

Heeere it is guys

Originally posted on Writing Prompts &Thoughts & Ideas...Oh My!:

Here to talk today about self-publishing at Writing Prompts, I’d like to introduce my friend Ethan Bethune. He is a captivating poet, photographer, and he aspires to publish his first book at the start of the year.

photo-1

As children we kept journals. We wrote essays for things like 9/11. But I never thought I’d fall in love with writing. Now I write poetry, essays, and short stories. Some for my younger brother and sister, who are special needs children.

Now onto the self-publishing bit. 15 years ago it probably had a lot of stigma around it. I don’t know for sure, but I do know that if you self published, it was pretty obvious because your book was the one that looked like a government food label. And it screamed that you had important things to say, but no one would listen.

But today I will probably be using this…

View original 269 more words

500

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So the news that I’ve reached
500 followers
Really shocked me
why why would anyone want to read this??
I don’t know
I just sit up late
And write things
While eating
Nachos
And drinking vodka
You guys are awesome
Really

I would
Call all my friends
And party like gatsby
But

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It’s a real struggle

Stay awesome guys
And have a great weekend
May we be celebrating 1000 very soon !!

Walk

I can’t walk
You know
The way you
Want me to
And I can’t breathe
In and out
In time

sequence
Of events
Thorn
in my side

I keep my eyes
Looking
for daylight

And all my heart
Keeps looking
For running water
Like a ship
Stranded on the high
Ground

I’m looking for
Some of you
I’m looking
For a hurricane
They said
“Hurt is like a hurricane “

But I’d trade
Daylight
For The drenching rain