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"damped" poems
It was the time of my Auntie Bee summers    I was small then    She had a parakeet that landed on my head    and a bathtub too    with water so deep!    and legs and claws!    **** thing nearly chased me down the stairs! She lived in slumbery Windsor Locks    where bugs hung-out in the haze    of teenage August    I played in the tall weeds    with a shoeless Italian boy    who ate tomatoes like apples    and cucumbers right off the vine!    He was ***** free and foreign!    We played— reckless, abandoned    behind the gas pump, under the tractor, in the barn       and through the endless fields    I didn’t know....    His name was Tony    I ate pizza with him—the first time At Auntie Bee’s I had to go to bed at eight    but I could watch night flowers    bloom on wallpaper    She came in to say good night    slippered, shadowy, night dress slightly open    and I peeped her *******    like Tony’s cucumbers!    I had never seen my mother’s wonders.... Night spread its wings from the old fan—    a bird of tireless exhaustion    whipped, whipped, whipped to death in its cage    tireless exhaustion    tic-tocking in time to a wind-up clock    stretched out on the whine    of the overland trucks    Route Five through the night of an open window In the grape arbor below— tremulous incessant    crickets    crickets    crickets tremulous incessant—insides of a child    a summer child    not yet ready for the fall of answers Auntie Bee had a daughter—Maureen    I followed her everywhere I could    I was small then--        do anything for a stick of Juicy Fruit I followed Maureen through my dreams    of being sixteen    and woke to Peggy’s “Fever”    while she tied her sneakers    against the mattress by my head I followed Maureen (in my mind)    tanned and bandanned    to work in the fields of shade tobacco    with all those Puerto Rican boys!    She knew where she was going! I was small then ...do anything for a stick of  gum “Mauney! Mauney! Mauney!”    ...through the goldenrod of roadside    through the smell of oil that damped the dust     I followed Maureen’s white shorts    and chestnut hair...to the corner store I followed the way the boys smiled    the way the screen door slammed    on her bright behind    the way her lips taunted and took    the coke-bottle’s green I followed Maureen I swear, I tried for hours to get that right! Must have been Peggy Lee’s “Fever” Maureen ties her sneakers in my face Flaunts her years above my head She has that look— “We kids don’t know nothin” (Little turds” that we be) …followin’ Maureen through the goldenrod of roadside tic-tockin’, beboppin’ “Fever— in the morning Fever all through the night….”
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Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
I Follow Maureen
It was the time of my Auntie Bee summers    I was small then    She had a parakeet that landed on my head    and a bathtub too    with water so deep!    and legs and claws!    **** thing nearly chased me down the stairs! She lived in slumbery Windsor Locks    where bugs hung-out in the haze    of teenage August    I played in the tall weeds    with a shoeless Italian boy    who ate tomatoes like apples    and cucumbers right off the vine!    He was ***** free and foreign!    We played— reckless, abandoned    behind the gas pump, under the tractor, in the barn       and through the endless fields    I didn’t know....    His name was Tony    I ate pizza with him—the first time At Auntie Bee’s I had to go to bed at eight    but I could watch night flowers    bloom on wallpaper    She came in to say good night    slippered, shadowy, night dress slightly open    and I peeped her *******    like Tony’s cucumbers!    I had never seen my mother’s wonders.... Night spread its wings from the old fan—    a bird of tireless exhaustion    whipped, whipped, whipped to death in its cage    tireless exhaustion    tic-tocking in time to a wind-up clock    stretched out on the whine    of the overland trucks    Route Five through the night of an open window In the grape arbor below— tremulous incessant    crickets    crickets    crickets tremulous incessant—insides of a child    a summer child    not yet ready for the fall of answers Auntie Bee had a daughter—Maureen    I followed her everywhere I could    I was small then--        do anything for a stick of Juicy Fruit I followed Maureen through my dreams    of being sixteen    and woke to Peggy’s “Fever”    while she tied her sneakers    against the mattress by my head I followed Maureen (in my mind)    tanned and bandanned    to work in the fields of shade tobacco    with all those Puerto Rican boys!    She knew where she was going! I was small then ...do anything for a stick of  gum “Mauney! Mauney! Mauney!”    ...through the goldenrod of roadside    through the smell of oil that damped the dust     I followed Maureen’s white shorts    and chestnut hair...to the corner store I followed the way the boys smiled    the way the screen door slammed    on her bright behind    the way her lips taunted and took    the coke-bottle’s green I followed Maureen I swear, I tried for hours to get that right! Must have been Peggy Lee’s “Fever” Maureen ties her sneakers in my face Flaunts her years above my head She has that look— “We kids don’t know nothin” (Little turds” that we be) …followin’ Maureen through the goldenrod of roadside tic-tockin’, beboppin’ “Fever— in the morning Fever all through the night….”
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82
You cant save my life I am drawn drawn in my own pain You cant make me happy I am covered Covered with my own grief You cant read me I am written in the paper damped by my own tears
0
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
Its not your fault
You picked me off of the damped earth, dusted leaves and years of dust away, sealed my cracks with kisses and tape of woven eyelashes. I was afraid, but I wanted to love you too. So I said I would love you, no, i promised. That I would love you if you promised me this -- that you would never, ever leave. your fingers were crossed.
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Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 11:16 PM UTC
I was blind.
Your nectar trickled down It’s flavour was renown The sweet tasting caramel Slowly chipped at my will It’s damped my mouth And pretend I had drought It spilled its honey substance And did my longing, justice It painted my tongue And between my gums Lastly it started to float Down my aching throat It crawled down my pipe And made the tube ripe But it’s objective was my heart As it would slowly rip me apart So before it could continue I started to swallow it whole Making sure your loving covet Stayed at the bottom of my stomach
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Jul 16, 2020
Jul 16, 2020 at 11:33 PM UTC
Nectar
A cup of coffee, I feel its warmth in my hands. This warmth, I know, Will soon vanish against The cold, salty air. The clouds bring rain. We know that. The clouds scream your name And the trees resemble your face, Serene, as you ponder, as you wonder. A cup of coffee, You brought me, And I think of you As a warm cup I hold in my Trembling hands, Whilst the cold, wet air Tries on and on To push me away from you. But for now, We are here together, Watching as the tiny pebbles At the beach Get damped slowly. And we know. The storm will soon fall upon us. But for now, We stand here, Looking into each others eyes.
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Aug 24, 2022
Aug 24, 2022 at 2:26 PM UTC
A Cup of Coffee
You bide my time, and cleanse your mind, and board in damped corners of mine. You fall asleep at the wrong time to rouse when gongs resound inside. None be so scarred to sleep as he; let him emerge for me to see. Here I am; I've won already. On my God, how are you doing? ~ A.M, F.H.
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Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 10:55 PM UTC
Words You Won't Read :
I am trapped in my own memories, an endless whimper through frail bones. Despite the clocks ceaseless “Tick Toc”, I remain in my own fearful zones. The sweat drizzles down my heart, Anxiety rushes through my veins. Stay away from me love, NO NO NO, I don’t want the Pain. I feel you lurking through those dark corners, I’m afraid. Running from the fear of you, out of my body I have strayed. I don’t want you to burn my soul, crush my aorta into stones. Your trying to pierce my heart, I’m terrified, please leave me alone. I've met you; I've savored your sweet honey taste in slow sips. That was before the honey bees came to sting my coated lips. The horror, the thought of love, the feeling of love is terrifying. Is love really the phobia, or is it the hurt that I am memorizing. It all boils down to love; it is out to get me, to hurt me. How do I make it go away, how do I make it FLEE, FLEE, FLEE. It's creeping around my lonely heart, to feel is what I fret. I hide, but love removes my hands from my beating chest. Persistent, don't you get the point of my reaction. Love, why do you wish to grant me dissatisfaction? I know, I want you, I want you it's true. I'm so afraid of what damage, maybe wonders you may do. What will you do? Please don't hurt me anymore. I picked up those pieces that you left broken before. I will get over this fear, If you show me a little, just a little grace. Kiss me softly, I will open my tightened eyes, to see your beautiful face. Even then my palms will be damped with frightful anticipation. You penetrated your way inside of me, Love you are penetrating! Please stay this time, I'm really afraid that you will go! To have love away from me, I can't stand it, I don't know! **My phobia is not having you Love! Not having you is my Phobia. Loving is not the Phobia! The Phobia is loving not!**
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Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
LOVE PHOBIA
I am trapped in my own memories, an endless whimper through frail bones. Despite the clocks ceaseless “Tick Toc”, I remain in my own fearful zones. The sweat drizzles down my heart, Anxiety rushes through my veins. Stay away from me love, NO NO NO, I don’t want the Pain. I feel you lurking through those dark corners, I’m afraid. Running from the fear of you, out of my body I have strayed. I don’t want you to burn my soul, crush my aorta into stones. Your trying to pierce my heart, I’m terrified, please leave me alone. I've met you; I've savored your sweet honey taste in slow sips. That was before the honey bees came to sting my coated lips. The horror, the thought of love, the feeling of love is terrifying. Is love really the phobia, or is it the hurt that I am memorizing. It all boils down to love; it is out to get me, to hurt me. How do I make it go away, how do I make it FLEE, FLEE, FLEE. It's creeping around my lonely heart, to feel is what I fret. I hide, but love removes my hands from my beating chest. Persistent, don't you get the point of my reaction. Love, why do you wish to grant me dissatisfaction? I know, I want you, I want you it's true. I'm so afraid of what damage, maybe wonders you may do. What will you do? Please don't hurt me anymore. I picked up those pieces that you left broken before. I will get over this fear, If you show me a little, just a little grace. Kiss me softly, I will open my tightened eyes, to see your beautiful face. Even then my palms will be damped with frightful anticipation. You penetrated your way inside of me, Love you are penetrating! Please stay this time, I'm really afraid that you will go! To have love away from me, I can't stand it, I don't know! **My phobia is not having you Love! Not having you is my Phobia. Loving is not the Phobia! The Phobia is loving not!**
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32
Flittering feathers write sonnets in soaring frequencies; taking in the ocean at once, I felt ripples brought to standstill, damped by second's refrain, curled back into the picturesque blue written ahead, but no cloud harbours the ceiling, no late words shown, jotted down by the indifferent and invariably disappearing breeze. The latterwork of these days took it up, and hung it out on lines stretched across skies and time, betraying tender surfeit, in moments torn out, and, leaving only vague traces of woodworn prose, spilling out my last sentiments: *"we, once, were alive, if only for a moment."* In dreams she holds small collections of sandy flowers, above the shoreline, as the dichotomous cluster takes theirs, behind a fragmentary grain in the blacksmith's hide; written, again, are those seasick letters, wrung out in the dead heat of the forge, the demands of strangers, in stone buildings by the fireplace, electric heater, off, the inbetween reeling of slightened accomplishments, the scent of oil, left over, from the husk of noon. Miss and want, over again, missing beguilement in afternoon's repose. "come back...", but she ain't the one gone.
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Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 7:12 AM UTC
penguins, at home
Beijing’s Child points at the white clouds flying, veils in the somber sky, to the moon under the yielding tree’s red lantern, he is absent-mindedly playing with his brown braids. He pictures himself abroad, by other long shores turning the pages of his dear illustrated book when a fired fish jumps up to the skies clad in its rainbow scales, glistering. Under the yielding tree red lantern Beijing’s Child rubs the green ginkgo Although the snow, winter’s daughter plucks the feather leaves of her silvery coat.... Was it the wind, messenger of the west that brought the Biloba bird until Ta? Under the yielding tree red lantern He thinks about it sprouting, seed of the past. The Child whose name means pagoda lives over the gates of the shining sun chanting to the elements songs and lullabies, Under the yielding tree red lantern. And when Earth vibrates under the storms when the frightened men rise their damped eyes the child wraps his body with the veil of the stars I hear by the mounts his voice and his augurs. But the tree was cut down and cannot offer its sweet sap anymore the red gleam has faded long ago of the marooned torn by time book only one thing remains, and it is a dream. Because, at bedtime, as the world is sound asleep the child pours a golden powder to the souls. Stay awake at night because the Child of Beijing will enchant you until your morning! Written in French in Beijing, October 20, 2011. Translated on May 9, 2014 Lyon, France
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 9:01 AM UTC
Muttered magnificence of the Chinese Seashore
As the cold crept under my skin so did your kisses as you planted them softly on the carpet of goosebumps that covered my body As the wind slapped my face with chills so did your hands as they cupped my red cheeks holding it still marveling at the beauty that has bewitched you As the rain damped my hair curling them with winter surprises so did you fingers as they hypnotized me to sleep uncurling all the disadvantages of the day As the flakes rested on my lashes so did yours against mine as you got close to me synching your breath with mine As January embraced me with layers upon layers of wool so did your arms as I roll under my sheets feeling my skin against yours
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 6:31 AM UTC
Chills and Skins
Lawrence (who goes by Lars) Went to India And Contracted SARS Damped his spirits? I think not! His best friend is Lou Payed his taxes and went to church Alas, 'twas not Jesus That he found on his search Lars and Lou One day had nothing to do They crowded the streets of the city In Bangladesh In Timbuktu They never found something quite as pretty Lars had bandages on his eyes Lou chose not to see Turning a blind eye Turning the cheek Say what you will (makes no difference to me)
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Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 10:35 PM UTC
What Else Are We Suppose To Do At Three In The Morning?
I reach into my pocket, and pull out some Autumn leaves. They're damped red, brown, yellow, and some green. They smell like musky air after rain. I reach into the ocean and pull out some seashells. One looked like it had a heart in-graved, and the other had a face. I almost got hit by a car that day, but I think they must be lucky. I reach into my past, and I pull out my heart. I put it in my pocket along with the musky leaves, and the shells from the sea, because all I do is reach and reach and reach.
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 9:48 AM UTC
I Reach
I woke up with an aching heart Pillow case damped from tears Tried to sink in words from you That day you left and gone away I wandered lost without direction. It felt like yesterday was an art The way you smile to your ears Like painted clouds on the sky so blue Sillily I pretended like I was okay Yet I silently longed for your attention. Suddenly we heard of words that cut Deep into our feelings that yearns For a moment being in love so true I desperately prayed you would stay That the illness was just an imagination. Little efforts we both had put On this flower that bloomed for years Ended with a silent goodbye from you Petals fell like my teardrops I ran away I wasn't ready to forget us and move on. I shed tears flipping through our booklet Contained the sweetest dreams of ours As I began accepting and find closure I promised to be strong come what may Until some day we shall meet in heaven.
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Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 12:10 PM UTC
Fallen Petals
The bomb has been planted was everything that he could think about that day as he entered the door and locked it again. Its former occupants had migrated to Egypt, since then, only disappointment sleeps in the house. Million inhabitants will die in that festival, including the elves and centaurs that came from the west. The fair was supposed to be a venue for recreation and alliance, a place where negotiations can be conducted and economic conflicts between the kingdoms can be settled. But it has been planted and many lives will perish. He crouched in one corner and noticed the peeling wallpaper – its edges bruised and forgotten and damped and dusty and bleeding. He folded his knees against his torn garments and enclosed his wings around himself and clasped his hands, trying to calm the trembling nebulas and screaming stars, but there is no escape from shattering. The bomb has been planted.
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Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 9:55 AM UTC
Those lights
The  path, which I couldn't see In the woods and near the sea Tilted grass ever so green Black damped and scented soil Under the shade of the trees Away from the gaze of the sun But shinning in moon light the path so close Kept hiding from my sight     White flowers in the weeds Leading to place never seen Misleading Illusion to the eyes Of the jungle, river and ice                                                              Blue waters and crystal sky Island of dreams, the other side this world I did explore when I took a step more Manisha
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Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 10:25 AM UTC
A Step More
painting red across my wrist and all i wanted was a better view "wake up"   it says   "let's go get high" my cheeks flushed hot red damped by my fears bored because i'm dumb it calls me a queer my mind although is a riot that you watch from your tv pupils dilated doll parts scattered bless my body bless my soul wrap it up in turpentine you're so ******* fabulous babydoll you fit right ******* in
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May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
=IT=
Believe in me when ice has shattered, And cold waters seep so fast, When drowning seems so unavoidable, And heart beats slowly, almost dead. Believe in me when you feel lonely, And everyone abandoned you, When memories are all that left And there's no light in tiny window. Believe in me when drops of blood Turn into a crimson lake When there's no singing, only howls, And heart beats fast because of fear. Believe in me when child is crying, And salt from tears hurts like a knife, When only lullaby is hope, That new day won't bring rainy clouds. Believe in me when candle damped, And darkness covers haggard mind, Believe me we'll break on through Believe in me for I believe in you.
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Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 3:07 PM UTC
Believe In Me
Fern leaves mirrored light is bent Dewdrops glistening heaven sent Dry lands drinking sky borne rain Again the echoes sound so strange To be tomorrows yesterday Sitting quiet living in today No past no shadows now of grey Wondering now what made us stray From things so common to the plan Altered fabrics change of brand Voices echo through the night Stalled by sunrises warm soft light Ash damped down by dying fire The hopeful press and never tire Spurred on always by lifes hope Seeing always the ways to cope Mirrored images waterfalls pass Crystal pinned diamonds on the grass The seasons casually spinning wheel Meeting lifes terms meeting lifes deal Seeing things for truth what’s real Heartbeat constants knowing feel Believing now it’s worth the cost Warm sunrise banishes night’s cold frost (GE2014) (C) Reserved
0
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
Seeing always ways
There’s dark force Raging my skin And invading my corpse Damped by ****** moods Immersed in holy hues Arranged in the distance Cruising the corners In apprehensive missions Returned to a stolen delivery Matched to a coved misery There’s a dark force Raging my skin And invading my corpse I never let it in.
0
Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 6:37 AM UTC
Net
oh darling, undress me I want to feel my lips against your lips skin against skin hands wandering on your damped body touching you careful and slowly kiss me passionately & love me deep.
0
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 3:39 PM UTC
sensual
i got tumbled over creeks over mountains and even over the stroke of roots like "have you ever been a permanent walking sound?"the earth was raised in meek hillocks distending the asphalt like lovely thronging arteries of full and with gilt split pavement just up over them ,gilt with the song of a dying star, crusted on them as they split the yoke of the hard scramble of tightly packed firm loosing."a tree is sound that i have tasted when i was just young struck moments of flesh as thin as the instants that i was then when i was in forests and in ponds and the silk of water drowned the heat of long suffering summer drawn cheeks(we called them days but really they were just the paneless leaves of glass i spun myself through as like a stretch of damped slightly fingers, sticky slightly, i picked up some flecks of seconds shorn and fluttering to my skin they stuck)tanned and brushed with the rosy tattoo of my heart down a little just a bit in my chest. I was in the golden state and i had heard my mother call me as the twill of friscalating nice illuminant brushes played against my ***** blond hair and i was pulled from them the moments of youth stabbed instants and i was pulled right up back to now where i am sitting just another second dead.
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Jun 2, 2011
Jun 2, 2011 at 2:27 AM UTC
youth
Rain falls steadily Straight down from the dark slate sky Umbrellas march past The air is green tinged Hedges bursting with bird song Then a flash and thunder's roar the rain now falling harder The smell of damped dust rises I breathe in the earthy scent glad to be alive
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Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC
Breathe
*Even the windows had acquired the moss. It sprawled on the pavement, the moss, with all those leaves, fallen barks, soda bottles and old hapless notebooks. The pane was shattered, its edge towering, watching time and absorbing solitude. The **** on the front door was damped and covered in rust. From the roof, stray veins dangled and decided to suspend themselves in mid-air. Scattered on the pavement leading to the entrance were glittering kisses and shards of glass. A shadow from the past lurks apprehensively – hiding behind the wind, bending below the grass. They say it was sleeping down the cellar. I never found out. But in the middle of it, a chair has been deserted – broken and abandoned. The hinges creaked as l slipped my foot inside. I shivered at the face of desolation as my leg touched the corner of the door. The passing time ruined the flooring; stray plants and bleeding flowers sprouted the space and occupied the place. Sometimes, at night, fireflies light this void and drown themselves in ecstasy. Sawdust fluttered carelessly round the stairs that ceased breathing halfway. The steps have retained the sound of the shuffling footsteps. Even the birds fear this spot, the windowpane had lost all its former glory and shining reflections. The edges of the glasses hang loose and proud, captivating than summer, sharper than words. I moved close, bended my knees, placed my ear near your half-opened mouth and listened to the sound of your breathing. Your hair draped down the side of your arms, half of your face is hidden away from me and I wonder if you’re calling me in this dream, exhaling my name Over And over And over And over Leaving traces and creases on the sheet as I staggered my way back beside you from the labyrinth of this captivating decay unfolding on your very palm.*
0
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 8:33 AM UTC
Checks watch
*Even the windows had acquired the moss. It sprawled on the pavement, the moss, with all those leaves, fallen barks, soda bottles and old hapless notebooks. The pane was shattered, its edge towering, watching time and absorbing solitude. The **** on the front door was damped and covered in rust. From the roof, stray veins dangled and decided to suspend themselves in mid-air. Scattered on the pavement leading to the entrance were glittering kisses and shards of glass. A shadow from the past lurks apprehensively – hiding behind the wind, bending below the grass. They say it was sleeping down the cellar. I never found out. But in the middle of it, a chair has been deserted – broken and abandoned. The hinges creaked as l slipped my foot inside. I shivered at the face of desolation as my leg touched the corner of the door. The passing time ruined the flooring; stray plants and bleeding flowers sprouted the space and occupied the place. Sometimes, at night, fireflies light this void and drown themselves in ecstasy. Sawdust fluttered carelessly round the stairs that ceased breathing halfway. The steps have retained the sound of the shuffling footsteps. Even the birds fear this spot, the windowpane had lost all its former glory and shining reflections. The edges of the glasses hang loose and proud, captivating than summer, sharper than words. I moved close, bended my knees, placed my ear near your half-opened mouth and listened to the sound of your breathing. Your hair draped down the side of your arms, half of your face is hidden away from me and I wonder if you’re calling me in this dream, exhaling my name Over And over And over And over Leaving traces and creases on the sheet as I staggered my way back beside you from the labyrinth of this captivating decay unfolding on your very palm.*
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11
Fern leaves mirrored light is bent Dewdrops glistening heaven sent Dry lands drinking sky borne rain Again the echoes sound so strange To be tomorrows yesterday Sitting quiet living in today No past no shadows now of grey Wondering now what made us stray From things so common to the plan Altered fabrics change of brand Voices echo through the night Stalled by sunrises warm soft light Ash damped down by dying fire The hopeful press and never tire Spurred on always by lifes hope Seeing always the ways to cope Mirrored images waterfalls pass Crystal pinned diamonds on the grass The seasons casually spinning wheel Meeting lifes terms meeting lifes deal Seeing things for truth what’s real Heartbeat constants knowing feel Believing now it’s worth the cost Warm sunrise banishes night’s cold frost (GE2014) (C) Reserved
0
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 5:03 AM UTC
Seasons
candle flicks orange selflessly spits and pop: pale pips when juice trapped in petroleum wax hits heat and fires to make mists in light a cotton thread ( points vapours ) stutter the dark: yellow the lights lets me see fractions of tar smell sweetly pink in the Valor heater. pressed from thin metal a bomb damped by ribbon squab (broad vapours) starve the cold: red air all weaves shrink as the smoke, a fake evaporate, journey's to the clouds
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Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
reply to a ripple