Magpie 224

Untitled
Am I supposed to know you?
Ye, twin of mine.
With the same playbill of ages in less-than-distance's reach
on both ends
both your side and my side,
we have seen the same shows, have we not?
And our hair comes from the same birth,
and the same shapes,
and the same curls, do they not?
Then, how does the mirror have the power to take the identical identity away?
Why,
when I watch your back,
and you turn your head from mine
for so long,
does the difference between
you and I
shut the sameness away into a box.
We can look in the same direction without seeing the same things,
you know.
And in my brain,
all I see is your back
a retreating, hateful back.
And in your brain,
all you see is nothing
of me.
You never see me until my screams echo the distance between two worlds.
How am I supposed to know you?
Ye, twin of mine,
when our arguments over the same shows
clash against each other,
not like cymbals,
but like fingertips
hitting precisely where bone and skin meet skin and bone,
hitting precisely where the contact causes tingles through the hand,
hitting precisely where it is uncomfortable but not altogether a pain that scars?
And who is on whose side, anyways?
Which hand are you? Which hand am I?
Am I the one who watches your back each day or are you the one behind mine?

June 17, 2014. 3:21 pm.

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This one is about me and my brother (we are actually twins ^_^). I didn't end up using the title of the piece of art, myself, but I'm sure there's a way you could make it relate. :)
We just had an argument over the mail... -_-
All I wanted was a "yes" or "no" about whether or not he was going to get the mail but he just had to ask me a question in response....and guess what it was.... "Can you get it?"
Not even a "no, can you get it?", just a CAN YOU GET IT
For my family, our mailbox is on the left hand side and the driver usually gets it. I was in the passenger seat... He was closer. I mean, yeah, I have something coming in the mail eventually, but i am NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS MAIL AROUND HERE.

So this is pretty much supposed to be about how we are twins but we completely DON'T see eye-to-eye in a lot of situations. I got really mad at him this time. I was yelling in his face by the end of it....which I'm not proud of and will need to apologize to him later. I just don't understand why he wouldn't just give me a "yes" or "no", even after he simply explained himself. All he had to do was give me a solid answer and not the "mu" thing (which pretty much is a neutral answer to a yes/no question and means "the answer is wrong" because it's a yes/no question and there are other answers to it).

Both of us said things that we were absolutely positive the other one should be able to understand. I don't know if it's because I interact with more people during the day and he with less that we're so different in how we want to explain things... but I decided to use this prompt as a way to explore how much we are alike despite our major differences and how it is nearly impossible to tell which one is right and which one is wrong, despite my best and most emotionally fueled desires and beliefs that I was the one who was in the right and he was the one who was absolutely in the wrong. It's a scary and frustrating thing to thing about, but I think that's probably okay. One of those healthy things even though they make your stomach churn and get all up into knots.

Magpie Tales

"Not To Be Reproduced", 1937, Rene Magritte

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Love,Peace,ChickenGrease,Rock On ♥

Magpie 223

❥

Magpie Tales (223)

*note: this may have been the first time I came up with the poem without looking at the picture immediately before or while writing it.... I was supposed to be trying to sleep and the thoughts just hit me and I made myself write it down instead of letting them be lost in my brain.

because then they'd be gone from the concrete world forever.

This is exactly how it was written out on my iPhone.. 11:21 pm June 13, 2014 and exactly how it is laid out, by whatever chance, in my "Notes" app (fixed just a couple typos).

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Tonight

I really don't want to fall asleep

Hugging my pillow

Nothing is good for that kind of thing

That kind of hugging thing

It's like a broken record the tape

slung out the voices eternally set to

a shriek

It dulled my head

And I think

I know I pushed it

Kept pushing it

Saying it was beautiful music

And now I am here

After each push the tap lasts for a 

little longer

The recording still holds its face

together for a couple more months

And what if this is the final tear

And I've finally ripped the present

Torn the music apart

It's gone

-June 13, 2014. 11: 21 pm.

❤♥ ❥(>‿◠)✌ ☮🍗🎉

Magpie 201

This Path Leads To A Hidden Room

It’s the road at night
Dark
Unrelenting
    in the satisfactory answers
    that shadows hold dear in their hearts.
Come, my love,
    and we shall pass over their boundaries
    that they used to guard so fervently.
And we shall hold hands in the distance
    where they cannot tell if it is possible, for the blurriness.
You, with your dress and open legs,
I with the cloth of it all reaching my ankles.
We will walk across the cobblestones
To the cobbled door
Into the cobbled room
—where the cobbles clobber you.
—Where only the shadows see what I can do.

January 5, 2014.
link to inspiration. Thank you, Tess, as always!