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matters to us
Contributed by
ming
on
Monday, 22nd June 2009 @ 10:40:52 AM in AEST
Topic:
abstract
|
you will receive yours
it is rising rude sparing
nothing.
wandering before me I
believed the crazy face
so this is
what I do. nothing. morning
waiting. best write this down
Asshat serpent.
marathon tapper. push against
I don't know. how to love the
hole speech makes?
poems are magically hooking
one emotional experience
away from crises.
whistling an unloyal tune,.
paragraphs loom getting
huge. soaking up
what reeks. talking up the wrong
tree, hugging inward, floating to
destroy your way in.
ignoring your green-flag waving
you bar king joke worker. there
is an exit. Fate's clock,
never generous. up at dawn
stalking. chains break. back and
forth comparing empty windows.
I assume the hereafter as lost ammo
willingly done twisting words pushed
away.
ears turn ink to pen. mistakes
parallel to imaginary full. feeling
tiny moments of aging
a rocking chair drafted to
maintain without pause.
real thing searching.
uncommitted memory of balance.
who owns this turn? velocity
may answer. its angle
sliding a lonesome rhythm.
circles vortex thick with witchs
typing friendship energy.
prompting light on unwise visions
of questions never asked.
light candle for the hawk
sparkles ole man crow. black
dog finds the lizard shadow-dop
hides with squirrel. totems
offer a cup of night to soothe
the savage self. put this poem
under your Asshat were it
matters to me.
ming
10-9-07
3:59 PM
Copyright ©
ming
... [
2009-06-22 10:40:52] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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