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The tangles of thought

Contributed by iodinelove on Saturday, 29th December 2007 @ 04:56:16 PM in AEST
Topic: surreal



The empty sky called white day to bring from winters waning grasp the fervor of the sun, letting caress the frozen flesh of snow with tender fingers warmed with supplications of love, to thaw the great icy plains of day.

The icy crag and tear swept sky rose over the world, sought any burdened, sought man and child alike, pierced deep into the blackness of the mad, and the mad howled with fear and laughter. Hollow winds pierced far into the hearts of the kind and led them to stray among the pleasure of their own lives.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Innumerable dreams; go. Innumerable pass; follow.
With Divided sun; return. With Divided sun, depart.

Fade, away! Sufferer’, rise!
With anointing tears subside.

Rain; endure. Snow; remain.
Fall; rejoice. Denied; forgiven.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Have we hidden so well in the hustle and curl of our own separate lives that we forget to speak our minds, can we acknowledge silence as our decision when we have so much to say, knowing the want of our own voice and that we too have fallen lost in the tangles of thought?




Copyright © iodinelove ... [ 2007-12-29 16:56:16]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: The tangles of thought (User Rating: 1 )
by Fionndruinne on Sunday, 30th December 2007 @ 06:50:13 PM AEST
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I like this one; the center lines are more lyrical for the ramblesomeness of the rest of the piece. And, the line

can we acknowledge silence as our decision when we have so much to say

is quite brilliant. Well done.

Andrew


Re: The tangles of thought (User Rating: 1 )
by Silent-No-More on Friday, 4th January 2008 @ 01:26:54 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Ah, now... I was very much intending to point at the same line even before having read Andrew's comment. I do like that particular line as well. The final part (below the second line), as a whole, is my favorite. I generally don't like poems that are a running series of questions (though, oddly enough, I apparently wrote one myself yesterday)... but there is something quite lovely about a poet's musing on things when it is delivered effectively as it was, I thought, in this piece. I do rather adore how you've wrapped up here. Nicely done, Abraham.

~Snemmy




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