Lincoln Neal

is for pantherers

About

I was born in Owego, NY and live and work in Portland, OR. I am writing here as I seek publication of another collection of poetry. I have been a dishwasher, a journalist, wine consultant, bartender, and art fuck.

Use the links below to friend me or follow me. It is nice to put a life and a face to your blog.

I do not ever ask anonymous questions but you are welcome to ask me anything. I'll probably answer quite quickly.

PS: I have quit writing twice. Once was journalism, once was the other kind. I just started writing again in late summer 2011. I have found tumblr helpful to re-learn how to write... And even get better. Hopefully I always am. We'll see.

Thank you so much for reading.

Ask whatever

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I like

Post via vulgivagus

time like paper

empty
It stares at you to fill it
white
like paper
mixed with the ocean, a shell
has nothing of your waves
inside
close the door before
the drift follows...

Post via vulgivagus
Post via vulgivagus

I saw you from your bones

The door was open,
but no one told them
to come in.
They saw us from our
mirrors
and held our reflection(s)
to the walls,
spider nets kept us in,
kept us...

Post via vulgivagus
Post via vulgivagus

Open

Your words are not supposed to
pound as loud as your chest
but they aren’t close enough to
my ears to tell you that
quiet bends enough.
It was open—
I’m sorry I don’t...

Post via vulgivagus
Post via ineloquententity

Empty Apartment
1. I have been asphyxiated by the fumes of hostility and loathing that permeated our bedroom after we made love and smothered it with ignorance.
2. The blame can...
Post via ineloquententity
Post via cataconda

The worst macchiato is filled

with foam. The worst americano

tastes more like piss than coffee

tastes like cigarettes, but that’s normal-

ly the best way to maintain...

Post via cataconda
Audio post via alexkwisner

“Dark Side” by AKW

today is a holiday for the kids in the town

i can’t help but feel sorry for those who have drowned

in the flood of everything we call important

i got too...

Audio post via alexkwisner
Post via thewritersaddress

The Witching Hour.

Enchanting fables conjure a childhood of late
Swearing to endure the loss of a youth unrefined
Like fangs bathed in the naivety of a helpless lamb
I dream...

Post via thewritersaddress
Post via fuckmewithwordss

New York City

on the subway today,
i was void of all feeling,
too busy, wanting to smoke and
drink, and need you…
wanting to collapse in between your thighs,
taste your sex,
...

Post via fuckmewithwordss
Post via microphobia05

I am alone only half of the time
The other half I am only hiding

Post via microphobia05
Photoset via alsoupicecream

mayorofawesometown:

by Murat Turan

THE WHALES

THE WHALES IN THE SKY

sperm

Photoset via alsoupicecream

Sweeping

we have cricks and
mist and wolves
with sweaters because
they’re cold and they
round five times
matting their bed
and close their teeth.
we have sheets and
skin and we
take all day until
we put our sweaters
away and sweep.
nothing against brooms,
we make up dreams
about wolves
running in cricks.
we spin five
times
sigh and
forget sweeping.
we sleep in
dust and everything.