nomadic philo-sophy (34)
.a frog. (24)
Ben Jah Man (22)
neo cosmonaut (17)
Mad America (12)
The Camp Fire (6)
Dr. Razam (4)
dr. moreau (2)
jean poole (1)
Name: Lauren Flannery
Bio: sharing words from somewhere out there in the big wide world... keeping it honest, real and from beneath the skin...
Photos: ren's photo libraries
Looking for a lost stripy sock! ( 2nd Aug, 2009 )
black crossiant ( 3rd Jul, 2009 )
bon voyage ( 28th Jun, 2009 )
Melbournes bad hair day ( 4th Mar, 2009 )
songs sent south ( 3rd Mar, 2009 )
i'll cross that strait when I get to it ( 24th Feb, 2009 )
isolated by the night ( 1st Feb, 2009 )
Sun Baked ( 29th Jan, 2009 )
Getting to know ( 29th Jan, 2009 )
shellless crab ( 3rd May, 2008 )
the sun sets today ( 17th Nov, 2007 )
making grains of sand ( 10th Nov, 2007 )
it's 9:30 in the morning ( 18th Sep, 2007 )
this is the same road to a new place ( 6th Sep, 2007 )
there's only me here ( 18th Aug, 2007 )
one for the children ( 4th Aug, 2007 )
What lies beneath ( 13th Jul, 2007 )
You can leave your Kaftan on ( 11th Jul, 2007 )
On the streets of China ( 4th Jul, 2007 )
Here I meet myself ( 4th Jul, 2007 )
memories of you ( 29th Jun, 2007 )
we decorated the world white ( 22nd Jun, 2007 )
Nun's sleep naked ( 18th Jun, 2007 )
this vego only does Aussie meat ( 13th Jun, 2007 )
Tumulous Lover ( 13th Jun, 2007 )
HITCHHIKED, POSTAGE, TRUCK, YESTERDAY, LOST PROPERTY ( 13th Jun, 2007 )
the bogan lives in me ( 12th Jun, 2007 )
Unrobed ( 7th Jun, 2007 )
Street BBQ Haikus ( 24th May, 2007 )
Intoxicating Enlightenment ( 24th May, 2007 )
Sex, songs and cowboys ( 10th May, 2007 )
ten haikus ( 3rd May, 2007 )
So the icing is caked
And where to from here?
We laid it thick
And sloppy… no serviette where I serve
Just your own chin to catch the fall out!
No sugary pink
Just whipped butter smeared off the end of a cheese knife...
North is warmth,
Gin on the rocks
Mango daqueries in the pool...
West be family
from blood to benevolent
From love to tenderness
And the wild wind of the african shore…
South smells like boring
And east is the flat ocean glare
Where to from here
If you’ve never been sure which way is up
And the map is missing a corner?
In this crowded space my body retracts
tantalized by the slipping sweat
indicating the marks left on the shifting floor...
Subtleties meet amidst drunken glaze
brushing against the rhythms of the night
I am watched from all directions
so I play the game.
my puppet dance is for them.
my silent audience applauds me in affectionate smiles
coated in hopeful sympathy...
The niceties of the night nauseate my toes
drawing into my under layers
I allow the distancing to take me elsewhere,
creating my net against the world
I dance in my own space…
Body reacting to your pull
My organs reach for more…
they call to other organs through scent and touch,
permeating this space in secretive insinuations...
Breasts, loins, fingers torturing me
heart restraining me...
Her rhythm pumping a wall of blood through my limbs
a protective glaze of restraint of logical, of boring fucking martyrism
Suspending disbelief I enter the cool night alone
Wrapped in after party thoughts I allow the cool to go where you don’t
I peek into the concealed segments of my heart and find the longing...
a desire to know there is a beyond the morning after.
There is a solidification that goes beyond morning sunlit struck conversation on a after sex drenched pillow
I wake in a pool of my own saliva
Awoken from a desert dream of erotic intensity
I awake in orgasm and marvel at the power of my own thought
Layered in my long lonely days I find the hidden desires of my heart
Beneath the sheets, beneath the pillow, beneath my puddle of spit, under a creaky wooden bed, beside the stripy sock
My needs lay waiting to be met…