key-laden ladylet

your burlesque poetess(s)

carved a keyhole here

jojo's paintbox presents: ART for Aliza's Brain Trust.
how the viewer penetrates the space
locksmithy
mlle.tumblr x-post to the max. is important.

i'm selling high quality card stock prints of my portraits of Aliza Shapiro/Heywood Wakefield. Your donations go straight to Aliza's Brain Trust to support this pillar of light/life of the Boston community, aiding her ongoing medical/living expenses as she recuperates from a cerebral hemorrhage and stroke. (Read more here)

The donation amount is up to you, but here's my suggested minimum donations to guide you. Click the donate button under the portrait you fancy! Don't forget to include your poemlet/watercolour-let requests in your additional instructions if you pay for those...

$7-$11 gets you a lovely signed print (incl. shipping)

$12-$15 for a print + separate $1 personalized commissioned poem from your burlesque poetess/wordsmithy. Any topic!

$16-$25+ for a print, $1 poem & petite watercolourlet/drawing of your devising!



Art sales for Aliza's brain trust

Brown bagterpiece Aliza :







Aliza in orange

Orangeiza :







Watercolourwreck</p>

Watercolourwreck :








of course if any of this Donate-button/paypal shenanery confuses, just drop a comment below here or email me and i'll discuss with you privately/send you an invoice. no worries. Thanks for reading/gazing/supporting.

P.S. stay tuned, i may add Aliza-stickers to the mix! and am hoping to vend these at the next Traniwreck...

Knock knock, cher padlock
key-laden ladylet
locksmithy
May 4, 2011 - poem-a-day OCD

Sorry to have neglected, el jay kin. The poem-a-day project wrapped up hilariously, as seen above. (The last month's-worth is still handwrit in my last sketchbook. Yonder is what 10 simultaneous drafts looks like in my Victorian automaton-bot handwriting.) i'm excited to share my zine with many teasers from the year, "Niblet: Mini-annals of decadence" on Etsy/for-general-online sale soon. Sorry not to have done so yet, i was a jerkface and sold/gifted them during whirlwind TOys mini-touring, Steampunk World's Fair and the lovely neo-victoooorian coda, Dorian's Parlour back in May/June. Hey, here's a pic kylecassidy took of me performing with my hott bandly, Army of TOys at said Philly corset-fest! i lead a blessedly surrealovely existence.

6/4/11 (twitpic / mlle.tumblr entry / oh hopping footage, 'Sam Hall')

Well, now i'm gonna cross-post some current events here. Maybe i'll just leave another levitating ukulele episode (by Justin Moore). Yes, re-animating the livejournal with flying flapper antics. The TOys are on a much needed vaycay (after 120+ shows without one!) this month, but we have some hugormous shows to ring in the fall. Like the Rhode Island date of World/Inferno's Week of Hallowmas parties-- and opening for The Humans (incl. members of R.E.M. and Ministry?!) at Church 9/25. up up and away. XO

Justin Moore, levitation archivist

A résumé used to present
if she in chains of magic were not bound
locksmithy
303. march 4, 2011


Last chorus vox of reason
swing green knees and then--
rusted shut cigar box

feeling car doors locked nose
powdered flour, you're fine
no need to lie back in tobacco

staring through stripped windows
that accept all competent coupons.
I'll just overhear intended scare tactics

what an inedible start to
non-black clad interview...
still manage to similie seamlessly

even Cinderella losing a plastic
half size loafer leaving the dungeon
card table won't back down-- bark.

It's gonna be the freak flag, then
ignore voicemails with their top
button done up sweet strangle,

the big bills, coughing fits.
Previous enjoyment experience
includes activism in filth,
knee high art without references.

I daresay, is that your symbol?

week44: 1, 2, 3, 4
here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day

"That was my escutcheon phase"
un trés grand clé!
locksmithy
302. march 3, 2011

(Ars Ars)

To learn more about being a royal
turn to glass when dealt an
opal hand. When you lift sickly

anchor over cold press paper
make sure commoner cheeks bloom
the notion of orange, beloved

protagonist of glue
portraits. Blue down each successive
lower lid, we need a niche-- new business

card for striped yurts, Punky
wrecked Brewster could make
the badges, when bleach has cooled

slate roots. The notion of hair
palette on the back of mandolins,
graceful Saint Venus flattering the F holes.

One can see their way to a Duchy now,
sinning by glass, pan flute, by oil.

Awash

week44: 1, 2, 3
here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day

Subordinate kingdoms
jailbreak nutsy!
locksmithy
301. march 2, 2011 (wed.)

Februar 1930


Yes, Tiny business, a matter of tuxedo
washing, de-moth-ing. Watch the dog in
dress tails OK Corral amble through

kitchen table, Cute quinoa.
No one feeds me like a man
-dola, rosin alone has me starved.

I'll be Johnny Damn'd if
I wasn't what's wrong with 'merica
the moment I checked email

in Harvard Square backpack traffic. Accepted
to the most gently disreputable words
and whistles tasting! Wine trellis

fingers fumble, I will need more
than a tiny robot helmet,
laser quill or no.

week44: 1, 2
here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day

Trois cents
clutch to the bosom!
locksmithy
300. (tues.)

365-Day 88

Wine skins and calves must rest
tender livers. We sleep, respectably tweed
alarm clock-owning adults.

Slow to rise, take stiff rag
in hand to dust, wipe down lap desk
spend a cereal bowl writing...

Last night kissing in the right
(wrong) pastry shoppe, North End.
Genuinely savoring tin pan eclairs,

waggling tongues rubbing ankles
against rain-gutters. Alley, my small whale
car awaits. Inspired to(day) grit coffee molars

use hand-blown glasses in Craigslist
gigs swamp. Wear fallout wellies,
an interview with maybe terrible knots
in the neck before the fire marshall
fails to arrive.



Just because, Tricia's surreal photo of us from Dec. (right?) ~ WSInkdrip session/Chronicle News feature on steampunk-filming. (arting fodder) i like our many-directional 'hurry up and wait' faces.

week44: 1
here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day

You're a foul-weather friend
key-laden ladylet
locksmithy
299. week44


String words, figs instead of hitching
sake, pristine accordion sign-ups
in New Hampshire. A first time

dizzy in the South End
weighed down by corsage.
Crochet-Eros sanctions do-overs

gnocchi and seared blossoms.
Umbie shares a safe appetizer
under people-lamps.

Venetian stroll ignoring
hedge fund sirens, tourists
at home trip low heels.

The biz dinner tables jealous
a kiss of real life
origami, paper doll-boy, girl.

Unknot cape, darken as the descent
to the subway whine. Use candy twine
drive off big frozen sheets
of tiramisu, end credits red
wine night in.

Tiramisu

here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day

They beheaded the statues, too
key-laden ladylet
locksmithy
298. (week 43 fin.)


Assume the furniture reverts
moss after the door chain
stops swinging. Owl pellets
in an apartment without breath.

There are sparks in the back seat
a trailer dragging sparks
in front on the pinball machine
ramp of 93. At this hour

the skyline is Les Mis
-worthy. Ragdoll's castles or
red scarves' triumph of reason.
The guillotine operator

receiving an axe man's tips
in a sow's ear. Execution sewn
into change purse of trinkets
superstition and privilege.

Without failure, lighter fluid
illuminates triads in potholes
interconnected toads.
Unplug near dawn, feed bread/beer.

Her endless day was her people&apos;s endless night.
"Her endless day was her people's endless night."

week43: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day

Read the recommended bones
why don&#39;t you love me edward gorey?
locksmithy
297. february 26, 2011 (All ages show-crashing w. myselftheliar on a too-bright day)


Salt-deprived Suburbans parade,
poly-blend Stepford stepmoms loading in
their lil' meat metal angels'
heavy road cases... I'd better murder

to you, Macabre as we pass algebraically
clean thug sneaks averting Satur-day
show eyes from Other mothers'
pilates thighs, mom-jeans' asses,

casket-amps. Eye to the Hef' keyhole much?
Best undress the pubescent proto
-tensions: "Over-hung
from last night. Tired from all the staying

up late I do! RAH RAH sex drugs rug-munching,
rock 'n trolls!" Sunglasses help
almost a decade out of crushing
-ly low high school. Over brunch

bunnies multiply. Many nippled lemmings
leap-limp more than hump boas ragged.
This is our toad in the champagne hole
conversation that couldn't pass through metal show

as polite society. Linebacker girls having their second
-ever menstruation en masse.
On flannel lockdown pea coats'
Trident spittle by pool tables

hiss "SUH-LUT!" as we cross by striped, snorting.
Macabre metal-dances, high-fives prehistorically
gangly boys in bright t-shirts. I pull a muscle in
little goth riding hood. Purple leopard,

polka dots, pinstripes, even mossy bruises'
patterns cannot clash en masse.
Hungry just looking, gazelles who've got to gore
with mascara wand for a boyyy. Want out?

You want orgasm. But we're just old sluts
anyway kicking open the EXIT
startling the moms in khakis' bloody
Marys. "Ta ta! Can't stay to take ALL your virginities!"

Kissing the sound guy with wolf-killing veil?
Now that was just cherries.
Pulling his dunes to me by fistful of hoodie
choke of the man-string-- that was just
good manners.


Stripey by greyflea

week43: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day

*
and some stuff about cigars and a tunnel
locksmithy
296. february 25, 2011

Death perception in flurries
--The outside is hard enough
--You say 'fodder' too?
--Home should be Ahh, rejuve-a-nest...

Arrive before sushi delivery
spread Greece on lavender crackers.
Waxen tales we throw 'my love'
around puddle jumps of tea candles.

Take your top off in their parlour
then artless impressionist
make up while staring into your palm
-sized mirror.The Garmin sings along

with AM soloing to subterranean bar mitzvah
reception of a rock show. Don't hunt,
you've left two slips of a girl awfully
tamarin monkey, cardamon high.

Anchor and aeroplane by weedlace

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