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 Dec 2014 David Leger
Sarah Spang
Hushed and heavy,
Dense and bright.
Lightening noise
Dimming grey light.

Snow snarls
Grunts beneath
The distant wanderer
Gritting her teeth

Crunch. Green eyes
Crunch. Sweet smile
She pauses and tilts
Her face for a while.

Rain has gone
By frost, away
With nothing to cleanse,
The memories stay.

Frozen and drifting
They spiral around
Collecting and freezing
On by and down.

They brush each pale cheek
Like fingers before
Collect on the lashes
Of eyes red and sore.

Voiceless, she drifts
With crystalline flakes
Caught on the winds
Of her weak mistake.
 Oct 2014 David Leger
Autumn
I took a quick puff
and of course it sent me reeling
of course I would fall
because quite the clumsy ****** I am
 Oct 2014 David Leger
Adam Mott
I can feel the fire deep inside
Burning words clean off the page
Screaming with fury yet unsaid
Ringing out slowly
Like a hellish belfry
Sing out to heaven
Hope to breath
All the while, Autumn leaves
All I can feel is bitterness at it's reprieve
So comes the winter,
A cold dark thing
For which may well **** me
The tags are void of meaning
 Oct 2014 David Leger
Adam Mott
Rattled through my pages
Soiled all my words
Colorless and quiet
Nothing ever heard

December's winds, cold and wild
The warmth in which I do toil
Turning and turning
My very pages, tattered and burning

Lullabies for which to sleep
Promises you promised to keep
Something to wish for when far away
To know and want,
To be everything
I feel it, burning and yelling from deep inside

The tags, they know nothing
 Sep 2014 David Leger
Adam Mott
Colloquial evanescence unbuckled
Made hard to find
Coffee hot and *** high
Pulling bagels out from where they hide
Mouth full of food and lies
Chew and swallow
I am fine

Weather requires a jacket day
No guests for who I can comment
Pull the door closed from the outside
Without your sun,
I appear blind


Repeat on and on
Till 5pm
Repeat all again
I am fine
Tags to be disregarded in regards to content.
Until you think you have it all, you won't be free.
 Sep 2014 David Leger
Ovid
Lovers all are soldiers, and Cupid has his campaigns:
I tell you, Atticus, lovers all are soldiers.
Youth is fit for war, and also fit for Venus.
Imagine an aged soldier, an elderly lover!
A general looks for spirit in his brave soldiery;
a pretty girl wants spirit in her companions.
Both stay up all night long, and each sleeps on the ground;
one guards his mistress's doorway, one his general's.
The soldier's lot requires far journeys; send his girl,
the zealous lover will follow her anywhere.
He'll cross the glowering mountains, the rivers swollen with storm;
he'll tread a pathway through the heaped-up snows;
and never whine of raging Eurus when he sets sail
or wait for stars propitious for his voyage.
Who but lovers and soldiers endure the chill of night,
and blizzards interspersed with driving rain?
The soldier reconnoiters among the dangerous foe;
the lover spies to learn his rival's plans.
Soldiers besiege strong cities; lovers, a harsh girl's home;
one storms town gates, the other storms house doors.
It's clever strategy to raid a sleeping foe
and slay an unarmed host by force of arms.
(That's how the troops of Thracian Rhesus met their doom,
and you, O captive steeds, forsook your master.)
Well, lovers take advantage of husbands when they sleep,
launching surprise attacks while the enemy snores.
To slip through bands of guards and watchful sentinels
is always the soldier's mission - and the lover's.
Mars wavers; Venus flutters: the conquered rise again,
and those you'd think could never fall, lie low.
So those who like to say that love is indolent
should stop: Love is the soul of enterprise.
Sad Achilles burns for Briseis, his lost darling:
Trojans, smash the Greeks' power while you may!
From Andromache's embrace Hector went to war;
his own wife set the helmet on his head;
and High King Agamemnon, looking on Priam's child,
was stunned (they say) by the Maenad's flowing hair.
And Mars himself was trapped in The Artificer's bonds:
no tale was more notorious in heaven.
I too was once an idler, born for careless ease;
my shady couch had made my spirit soft.
But care for a lovely girl aroused me from my sloth
and bid me to enlist in her campaign.
So now you see me forceful, in combat all night long.
If you want a life of action, fall in love.
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