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posted on Mar, 12 2010 @ 02:12 PM
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reply to post by whaaa
 


beautiful

(and fast)

I'll be back later...




posted on Mar, 13 2010 @ 08:55 AM
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reply to post by whaaa
 


angels hold the far shore
trumpets ring, rise and follow
rhythm’s flight

watching stirs the plumb of night
a ribbon of small gestures
crosses my lake

strokes this pool of eyes awake
from a bed of rolling brush and reeds
it's begging for a story

my geese never sleep

angels all




oops - forgot a word :-)

oops - changed my mind - again
patience is a virtue I hear :-)



[edit on 3/13/2010 by Spiramirabilis]



posted on Mar, 13 2010 @ 11:54 AM
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When angles sound the trumpet sure
sounding my resignation
wondering hither
to and fro
amassing my imagination

for if and when that day does come
and if my ears are worthy
the sea of sickness we all swim in
will drain while sins are whirling

for now we all will shroud ourselves
in thin white veils of hope
invisible they may be to some
and those well hold by towrope



posted on Mar, 20 2010 @ 12:09 AM
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Your life has turned, the hell lights come out to play.

You cant believe people could treat ...you.... this way.

You run ten miles and cry into the leaves of eucalypt trees

You scream into a sky that is blue and is spinning bye bye

Betrayal the s'n-word'ing bunch that haunt the fields of failure

Alone...only the alone know the true power of this condition

Are you dead? have you forgotten? are you dead?....do you know?

Are you dead are you dead are you dead are you dead are you dead.



posted on Mar, 22 2010 @ 06:31 PM
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I want to squeeze
And squeeze and squeeze
Until I black out with rage
With a big blood vessel
Exploding all over your face
When I die



[edit on 22-3-2010 by The Motorcycle Boy]



posted on Mar, 22 2010 @ 08:17 PM
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reply to post by The Motorcycle Boy
 



And so I sing
my crippled song..
"now hear this
you sons of snitches:
God is on our
side, so...
make believe
black death is white,
dress up your
hair for war
as if for girls
or boys
and throw your
bodies away.
Love and your
death
are equal joys."

and so I must
sing again...
"What is the balm
for a dying life?
Dope, drink or Christ?
Is there one?



posted on Mar, 24 2010 @ 10:54 PM
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instinct runs
our wolves
unseen

between
there and
near trees
hidden in
deepest
seen

tracking a
far within

to begin
close open
circles now
with then
our mind
and sin
in nature
grown

a known
all want
thrown
into ever
felt warm
or cold
but always
bringing
more

chase for
need’s right
long sight
or nothing
but a clean,
clean scent

instinct runs
our wolves
unseen



posted on Mar, 27 2010 @ 11:54 AM
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A big rat
Scrambles by my door
The whore escapes
To the streets
After soiling my sheets

A fat cat
Waiting outisde in the car
Takes her to another bar
And more lines
More slaps on the behind




[edit on 27-3-2010 by The Motorcycle Boy]



posted on Mar, 27 2010 @ 09:39 PM
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reply to post by The Motorcycle Boy
 


I turned on
the radio
and this country
song told of...
the rape of God,
the blood that
stains its claws,
blinding the eyes
of angels,
lobotomy for
the children,
the grease
that shines
its lips,
playing dice
with ravens
casting the lots
of Armageddon.



posted on May, 26 2010 @ 08:26 PM
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falls to me this seeming
all notes of sticky Joyce
in sweetest warm and newly
come in voices yours
and yesterday’s

the wake is in my head tonight

and Ulysses is on his sea

the last words dripping
wet behind my eyes



posted on May, 30 2010 @ 09:01 AM
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reply to post by Spiramirabilis
 


Sweet Ulysses
Are you my
friend?
Well friend,
have you wondered
why all the clocks
in heaven are broken?
We have been alone
to long. Love is late.






[edit on 30-5-2010 by whaaa]



posted on May, 30 2010 @ 11:04 AM
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reply to post by whaaa
 






- all the clocks in heaven -


nice

thinking...



posted on Jun, 2 2010 @ 10:24 PM
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writhe, writhed
in heaven held
nearer to far
too near

time an undulation

we all render
while in our hours

rivers flower
at the sea



posted on Jun, 2 2010 @ 10:36 PM
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reply to post by Spiramirabilis
 



Why don't they
stop throwing
symbols?
Echos clutter
the air.
But it's OK
to cast the
first stone,
or pearls
before
swine.

Time is on
the prowl.
I blink and
half my life
is over.



posted on Jun, 23 2010 @ 11:38 PM
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bell of hours
converses

summer
low lying
murmurs
murmurs

here

warm settles my inner ear

nightjars settle our sky

no fear waiting

a surprise



posted on Jun, 28 2010 @ 09:50 AM
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Waiting
for truth that
has no more
reality.
I have abandoned
beauty.
The blood priest
have control.
The sea bone
ritual is in full
swing.

The guru
of pain and
the death of children,
you are alone.

Suffering is
what was born
tearful truths I
cannot scorn!



posted on Jul, 3 2010 @ 04:52 PM
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a shadow
laps at now
tongue in the water
waist to the wall

a voice as small
towards later
as then was tall
reels in the heat
of a bothered
star

finds music left
strange and wet
along a strange
bough

it's sings

from the trees
of our evening

find sleeping now
on it’s own shore

a shadow laps
at never





[edit on 7/3/2010 by Spiramirabilis]



posted on Jul, 9 2010 @ 07:02 PM
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A fat cat
Waiting outside in the car
Takes her to another bar
And more lines
More slaps on the behind

A vampire bat
Finishes her off that night
Without a whimper or fight
No more shame
No more taking the blame



posted on Aug, 14 2010 @ 10:42 AM
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stay yourselves
you darling girls

take aim

May’s pole in trance
will twine the dance

hair kisses in
hissing shadow
a slow embrace
of giggling
snakes

some swirl of
serpent stories
wound round
a dream

just as it seems

it’s only fear will throw
black burqas on your soul

but not your fear

Beauty made her claim
to that better name

she steals it
from an army
of silent stone

it’s safe to sing

sing






[edit on 8/14/2010 by Spiramirabilis]



posted on Aug, 15 2010 @ 12:48 PM
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reply to post by Spiramirabilis
 


My eyes
are half closed,
Still I see the girls
in heaven,
And why are
they demanding
a full accounting of
my sins?

Oh sister of mercy
forgive me.
I am here before
you, bald head,
Tshirt, huraches,
and twisted screams.

I am not
the man that
tore the pages
from your
ancient,
yellow
book.









[edit on 15-8-2010 by whaaa]





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