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Sami Catt

Caulfield North, Victoria, AUSTRALIA


Joined March 23rd 2008

Number of Posts:
45

Number of Comments:
0

Karma:
9



About Me
I am a Philiosophy and Film Studies student at Monash University.

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Recent Posts

The confident sun

November 6th 2009 12:35
The sun throws itself out to everyone each day.
It is giving something.
It is not asking for something.

Some people like the sun.
Some people love the sun.
Some people are indifferent to the sun.
Some people don’t like the sun so much.

The only thing that anyone has to offer the sun is their opinion on the sun.

But the sun isn’t asking for anything, not even approval.

So the people’s opinions of the sun don’t matter to the sun.

The sun is too busy throwing itself out to everyone each day.

I like the sun for that.

Even though it doesn’t care.
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I've known her for a while and she is alllllllergic to bees.

November 5th 2009 11:12
My friend who dresses like a tangerine,
Got stung behind the knee by a bee,
She screamed and stamped her feet,
Get the antihistamines, is what she what she means,

So I did.
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Rude cruel fair true

November 5th 2009 05:37
idiot quips
genius errs
sure foot slips
crystal blurs

coward fights
hero leaves
wet match lights
sociopath grieves

But for all of these and the others
We my dear, shall never again, be lovers.

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Sonnet 1

November 5th 2009 04:59
So can your wait turn on me?
Or can your wait, our wait become?
The subtle and the tiny glee


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Missed

November 4th 2009 10:44
I'm a mystery.
Did you miss me?
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Perception Two

November 4th 2009 10:41
I am sick of being tired,
Wired and sore.
Sick of waking up in different places, with an aching back


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Perception

November 4th 2009 10:39
The mundane and those who sound the same,
Even the mundane who sound different from the rest,
But the same as their 10 day ago selves


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My Fruit

November 4th 2009 10:37
My friend dresses like fruit,
She always looks wonderful and her smile and her words are wonderful too,
It’s just that she always dresses like fruit.

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But I can

October 30th 2009 11:36
The woman on the corner is selling free screams,
She’s hunched over like a standing armadillo,
She’s still though in the turbulent edges of a tornado


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Poets

October 30th 2009 11:28
Poets don't exist no more.
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I've not commented on anything yet :(