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when the tongues of snakes
flicker in your words.

when the day is darker
in my mind,
than the greying of the clouds

when sighs sing, melancholy
refrains.

then from you I am gone....

into a world asunder
a city of  labyrinth alleyways
that lead all to a fountain
of water tainted,
by memories unkind.

it is there,
there you will find
the bare bones of me.
sitting, drinking
at the fountain head,
drinking rememberances
of days gone by,
days desperate, diluted
with desire of a better hope.
writing exercises from therapy(about 15yrs ago)....
the leaves are beginning to turn
the tips just edged with the glory
of colour

in the early morning air
that crisp nip
gnawing away at summer

and the birds are beginning to leave or forage for warm nesting

the little blucat, watches this
activity from the comfort
of the warm window ledges
in the sun room,
before dozing once more
head pressed to the warm glass
he actually falls asleep with nose to the glass...but it is too hard to write that in the poetic elegance of this observational style....silly cat.
 Mar 2015 Left Foot Poet
Ottar
Shivering against the cold
Fresh hair cut and she is old-
er
Wire fox terrier off white

plays hard and treats her toys light-
ly
curly lamb to sleek slim cut
demands attention, no if, and or, but

"Pretty me pretty me pet me keep me warm"
She is more than just a pretty face, not a farm-
dog
Curled up close against my leg to ward off the cool chill tonight

She is a companion dog and all her challenges are now my delight.
Tikka is a wire fox terrier, heart like a dragon, as on our morning walks she is capable of draggin' my *** around our walking route.
She is 13 and has been through much we have only owned her nine of those years, we have become close friends and taught each lessons about life, and helped each other through the ones that stopped us momentarily in our tracks, this is unedited, even though she is a purebred and a rescue, she is very rough around the edges and is still learning and I am learning how to teach her.
My ***** are killing me today.
They're really sore.
Abused too much.
Been using them all day and night.
Just a little callous.
Worked thirteen hours on the go
The ***** are those on the soles of my feet!
(c) Livvi
 Feb 2015 Left Foot Poet
Ottar
the way the teeth get out of the way of the tongue,
the sounds come from the throat and below,
maybe it starts at a big toe?

the sinus chamber is more plus than
minus, adding to the echo that only
you hear, no fear built in reverb!

read the long and the small,
stories, poetry and all aloud,
hear that voice, it is yours,

BE PROUD!

play with your voice, become a vocal
acrobat by choice, assembled a vocal
ensemble with your chords,
all the poems and words, you horde,

for reading
when with
your light
alone at night
you read a million words
to learn to love the sound
of your voice, shaping
words, adding emotion
to a two dimensional framework
and making it a verbal ballet!
Light sounding ...
reflects smiles
mirrors pains
its beauty beguiles
entertains

wakes up heart
opens door
transcends art
furthermore

swells in vein
its maddening flow
drops as rain
on parchment glow

once seeded within
grows deep root
makes you come clean
speak only truth

soul's inked beat
pearls dug from deep
in true spirit
have it worshipped.
Poetry is a spirit; they that would worship it must worship in spirit and in truth.
(E.M. Forster: The Celestial Omnibus)
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