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*The heat opened a casket somehow Entombed in a white hot vacancy Rests my summers day melody Of gentle feet patting crunchy gravel Along the pink spines of swamp snails Out there with listless goats inhaling The moss infected water And how I am trapped in my protective Jalousies like a silly little lifeguard Waiting for a dip in the surface An action in the preface The fields are screaming silver mutiny amidst The drought on their legs What travesty happened here? What reverie of the cosmic nature? They left it bald as an onion Sifted as cement I can hear their pleas To drop them my sweat Like a mother to her children All to ease their parched throats The wind hangs like a scandal Whip there, calm somewhere Or a fusion in between As fickle as my feet could carry me I feel like a sponge in all My sublime holes Waiting for rain to drop its mercy Submerge me in its ocean of rumination It is horrible I am fried like chops Of hard meat about to skitter and burn Rare you say?Not possible in this Omniscient oven. The birds turn brown in my eyes Like lumps of soil with feathers for feet They seem to be getting along With the unforgiving sky.*
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Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC
summer colloquy
*The heat opened a casket somehow Entombed in a white hot vacancy Rests my summers day melody Of gentle feet patting crunchy gravel Along the pink spines of swamp snails Out there with listless goats inhaling The moss infected water And how I am trapped in my protective Jalousies like a silly little lifeguard Waiting for a dip in the surface An action in the preface The fields are screaming silver mutiny amidst The drought on their legs What travesty happened here? What reverie of the cosmic nature? They left it bald as an onion Sifted as cement I can hear their pleas To drop them my sweat Like a mother to her children All to ease their parched throats The wind hangs like a scandal Whip there, calm somewhere Or a fusion in between As fickle as my feet could carry me I feel like a sponge in all My sublime holes Waiting for rain to drop its mercy Submerge me in its ocean of rumination It is horrible I am fried like chops Of hard meat about to skitter and burn Rare you say?Not possible in this Omniscient oven. The birds turn brown in my eyes Like lumps of soil with feathers for feet They seem to be getting along With the unforgiving sky.*
I wrote this so fast i dont care how bad this is this is my first of the year thank heavens for this chance
lovelychickenbones
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Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC
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