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"cruses" poems
A star of blood you fell from the point of the hypodermic singing of fabulous beasts & spitting out the *** of vowels Your poems explode in the mouth like torrents of ***** on a night full of zebras & bootheels Your ghost still cruses the river- fronts of midnight assignations in a world of dead sailors carrying armfuls of flowers in search of your unmarked grave Your body no sanctuary for bees, Death was your lover in a rain of broken obelisks & rotting orchids In the tangled rose of a single heartbeat I offer you the shadow of a double profile, two heads held together at the bridge of the nose by a nail of ***** smoke in the long night's dreaming & memory of water poured between glasses In my mailbox I find a letter from a dead man & know that for every shadow given one is taken away Yet subtraction is only a special form of addition and implies a world of hidden intentions below a horizon of lips thin as your fingernail sprouting mysteries in the earth … The ace of spades dealt from the bottom of the deck severs the hand which retrieves it & the eyes of Beauty sewn together peer over a black lace fan in the ****** sunlight of a Spanish morning without horses The Belt of Orion is loosened before you as you remove the silver fingerstalls from your mummy hands & kneel to plunder the nightsky in a shower of bitter diamonds. (Somewhere under a blanket someone weeps for a lover.) Peace to your soul & to your empty shoes in the dark closets of kings with no feet!!!
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
An Act of Jeopardy for Garcia Lorca by Ira Cohen
A star of blood you fell from the point of the hypodermic singing of fabulous beasts & spitting out the *** of vowels Your poems explode in the mouth like torrents of ***** on a night full of zebras & bootheels Your ghost still cruses the river- fronts of midnight assignations in a world of dead sailors carrying armfuls of flowers in search of your unmarked grave Your body no sanctuary for bees, Death was your lover in a rain of broken obelisks & rotting orchids In the tangled rose of a single heartbeat I offer you the shadow of a double profile, two heads held together at the bridge of the nose by a nail of ***** smoke in the long night's dreaming & memory of water poured between glasses In my mailbox I find a letter from a dead man & know that for every shadow given one is taken away Yet subtraction is only a special form of addition and implies a world of hidden intentions below a horizon of lips thin as your fingernail sprouting mysteries in the earth … The ace of spades dealt from the bottom of the deck severs the hand which retrieves it & the eyes of Beauty sewn together peer over a black lace fan in the ****** sunlight of a Spanish morning without horses The Belt of Orion is loosened before you as you remove the silver fingerstalls from your mummy hands & kneel to plunder the nightsky in a shower of bitter diamonds. (Somewhere under a blanket someone weeps for a lover.) Peace to your soul & to your empty shoes in the dark closets of kings with no feet!!!
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Natnael Asres: Had a pen and paper to write all my thoughts had a teacher to answer all my questions....                                                   had a bunch of friends who would come over.... but now now those pen and paper are out all I seem to need is a laptop or all be it just a smart phone thanks to Microsoft office and ohh by the way that helped "bill make all his billions" !!! while we don't even remember how to write "cruses in cursive" and all that. And what is a teacher I may ask ? I was thought by 'Myspace' in elementary then took over 'google' to get me where I am  always had the answer and sometimes a little sideshow specially when puberty came knocking and a special shout out to 'Encarta kids' that also had my back. And what about my friends ?  yesI have pictures of them well surely cropped and duly filtered and we talk everyday thanks to the group chat we have talking about dumb **** like who went where who eat what and most importantly who ****** who ! so I am glad to be a 21st century boy who doesn't know how to write on a paper and don't know the use of a teacher and who surely doesn't recognize his friends with out there filters ! So # sorry for 20th century people hastag (#) yeaaaa me am the king of the world a dumb Boy who wouldn't make it through a single day in the real world or would I you never know.
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May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 6:03 AM UTC
21 century boy.