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Eileen Prunster Oct 2012
look at it
this poem
nothing
of it
no agitation
or dissipation
nothing of
passion
what is this poem
nothing of
anything?
Eileen Prunster Oct 2012
I don't think I can do this anymore
or want to
we cycle in
and cycle out
push and pull
against each other
spiral up
and spiral down
pull towards
repel against
contained by love
that barbed wire fence
Eileen Prunster Oct 2012
We invent
quests
for ourselves
to give our existance
meaning
the only result
is
to make ourselves
as fallacious
as the invention
Eileen Prunster Oct 2012
Most of the time
I feel my old spirit
still rattling around
deep inside
but as a ghost
haunting my ruin
Eileen Prunster Oct 2012
Words are only
a vibration
of the air
however bitter
they leave
no trace
Eileen Prunster Oct 2012
Luminous!
she is just luminous
with ready smile
and laugh
no one knows
that underneath
she is dying
on the inside
black as coal
is her soul
my dear
my love
my daughter
always was
destined for slaughter
I have a very cute, artistic, depressed daughter that has always thought/wished life was like carebear land I've always known she is too tender a soul...
Eileen Prunster Oct 2012
Ivied brick
and ancient beams
icy draughts
damp wall seams
smokey fireplace
crooked floors
gaping holes
instead of doors
run down sheds
home for cats
ambiance
fit for rats
There are a lot of turn of the century derelict cottages dotted around the countryside here in Taz, some on still farmed land turned into hay storage space, Tiny hand built and crude they are amazing testimony to how hard it was for early settlers here as some are in remote cold places that would have been extremely difficult to farm and live in
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