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tricia-drover
Canadian
Who is the monster that blocks out the light? The invader, the enemy - the gruesome, loathsome blight? It treads the dark side without concern or care. For vindication it burns, no respect for what is fair. Caring not whose path it tramples; leaving behind a trail of horror. This evil, cursed, unholy beast lacks a true sense of honour. To show its triumph by extinguishing pure, honest feeling. Who wins by deceit and betrayal leaving all in its wake reeling. Then... in the mirror I turn and see its wretched face staring back at me...
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Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 11:32 AM UTC
Who is the Monster?
June 15, 2010 Buildings reflecting buildings; surrounded by a dull murmur of conversation held over neutral jazz easily ignored; the din punctuated by angry horns Dappled sunlight peeking past the towering concrete giants as a cool breeze lifts white tablecloths and stirs the newly formed leaves. An inky crow alights, looking knowingly at crowds of people rushing by to nowhere as the gold afternoon sun dips past the artificial horizon. A man walks up – a pause – then into the restaurant he strides. Following him is a wild looking beggar who steals all topics of conversation. And in my mind, my thoughts drift back to melancholy places tomorrow’s fears mingle all too well with yesterday’s well aged regrets.
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Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 3:58 PM UTC
Afternoon at the Art Gallery
You saw into the very depths of all that I rarely share; all of me, bared before you yet you didn't even care. Cold, icy, penetrating, eyes that could freeze molten lava - bitter, morose, but underneath a spark did tease. A playful glimmer, deeply hidden, true warmth radiating with the word of love you so rarely spoke, leaving me to wonder if it was ever heard. I used to long with desperation for you to turn those eyes on me, to really know me and to care that my love ran deep as the sea. Until finally one day I came to know that hid behind your eyes was a barren soul And so I left, to somehow find a way to make my broken heart whole.
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Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 3:30 PM UTC
Piercing Blue Eyes
Ceaseless Orbit Never a pause In the fluid motion Of the electric world Everything from emptiness Nothing is all we are But we are still made Of stars, you and I No such thing as Yesterday; tomorrow’s Promise is ruined by The eternal present When life’s flimsy mirage Is consumed by time All that is left – if Anything is left at all Is the memory of True unfettered ecstasy Eternity is found in life’s ******** moments.
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Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 3:29 PM UTC
Ceaseless Orbit
If - why bother - Then why bother wasting anymore precious moments of a life so short with misery or pathetic self-pity? Why not cast off the shackles of depression and allow the light of life to shine? Stop the self-indulgent tears (so much easier said than done!) and try to face unblinking the true beauty that is life.
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Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 12:35 PM UTC
Why Bother?