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#rodin
Pure as alabaster,   no servant, no master, only love abides. Lost in a kiss, divination of  bliss. Together, they've stood, against time. Their creator long gone, still they live on, to remind us that true love lasts forever.
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Jan 15, 2025
Jan 15, 2025 at 11:15 AM UTC
Rodin's Lovers
as the foghorn blows for the third time i ask the question once again … where lies the hands of power and bringing consciousness back into my material being i find two hands that look very much like my own nomind, i don’t mind i thought i was a thinker but Rodin proved me wrong he bronzed the thinker after pondering on that while observing the foot traffic at the gallery for a long moment … i wondered: as an observer of the observers am i hunter or prey?
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Jul 15, 2024
Jul 15, 2024 at 3:08 AM UTC
being and somethingness
hard facade soft edges blurred depressions precipitous slopes fragile points of origin no shape a heavy space dappling of light eyes a fusion into the mind a focus approaches my forehead meets my finger tips thumbs caress my ears nose peeks out for air tension builds across my neck the day is bestirring a haunting commences the stirring street clamours my feet embrace the floor the bathroom draws me near the bus door shushes close my hand finds a bar to hold an unanswered welcoming smile in the crowd the window fog of mortal breath ting, my inescapable stop my watch prompts me to toil the briefcase opens amongst discarded papers lunch makes it to the drawer password…. needs changing emails overflow the inbox an empty outbox unpaid demands crossed out scribbles a match of a pencil smell of an unlaundered shirt the clamour of the phone a deadline agreed the digital clock hoots in red at my predicament the editor hot, the ink is cold lame excuses unworthy of air time to recant elbows take my weight as I bow pray-full fingers encamp on my face eyelids close here a place for shapes of my imagination
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Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 7:29 AM UTC
Shapes of our imagination: Rodins Non Thinker