bellmusker
Profile
To make me smile:
Pour me black coffee. Put some Etta James, Big Mama Thornton or Betty Davis on the stereo. Speak Dutch to me. Drink your whiskey straight. Present me with cheese. Don’t scoff at my Duran Duran addiction. Plait and then unplait my hair. Unwrap the chocolates (Belgian, natuurlijk). Never apologise for eating. Wear red. Make fun of me. Know what a split infinitive is. Use one anyway. Strut to funk music. Embrace solitude. Snort when you laugh. Smell like coconut. Resist the urge to mutilate my Boy George doll. Stop to pat each and every cat you see. Eat with your fingers. Never wear pink. Respect my appreciation for silence. Know when the moon is full. Don’t pretend you don’t know any Guns and Roses lyrics. And if waking me up, remember to stand at a safe distance.
Is that too much to ask?
Groups
bellmusker hosts Melbourne & Victoria and is a member of A New Aesthetic.... Divine and Otherwise , Beautiful Belgium, Blue Room, friends of redbubble, In the Moment, Lesbian and Bi-Women's Art, Rockabilly, Short stories - Spherical Scriptings, The Dutch Connection, The Sensual Word, The Word Tree, Travel and Adventure and WMG.
Journal Entries
closing the door on winter
Posted 7 days ago, 19 comments so far.
cleopatra's brew - august writers' meeting
Posted about 1 month ago, 16 comments so far.
the antidote to venom
Posted about 1 month ago, 39 comments so far.
VENOM
Posted 2 months ago, 37 comments so far.
ink & blood: what do your tags say about you?
Posted 2 months ago, 18 comments so far.
make the devil crawl in the sand
Posted 2 months ago, 18 comments so far.
speaking in tongues
Posted 4 months ago, 34 comments so far.
feast - april writers' meeting
Posted 5 months ago, 12 comments so far.
Melbourne writers' meet - February
Posted 6 months ago, 2 comments so far.
words & wine - the aftermath
Posted 9 months ago, 11 comments so far.
Writing
strut
Laughter so dirty I stumbled, blushed / Never felt so unripe.
the morning has gold in its mouth
I wanted them in places I shouldn’t even be thinking about this early in the morning.
the freckles on my fingertips
I’ll hurt you, but you’ll deserve it. You just have that look about you.
songs of spine & salt
brush my hair aside / & read the stories in my bones
ripe
One lick of the darkness / Eyes closed, mouth open
her last meal
He fed her red grapes, and flicked the seeds out first with the nail he grew long for his banjo.



