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The Distant Taste of Blood
Contributed by
one_in_six
on
Friday, 5th March 2010 @ 07:04:32 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
Grand mal of the psyche
the distant taste of blood,
Sharp ice spins in our storm clouds
but we stay the lightning from the mud.
The chilled air unexpected
seeps into our hands,
I read The Stranger years ago
yet in my head it stands.
I was thinking about stalactites
stalagmites
and the space in between,
A floor and ceiling that will crush each other
anticipation obscene.
There is no moment for sharing
no polishing a gun,
Just sewage, and blankness
and a hundred ways done.
At best, most days
it’s a ghostly joke,
Whale songs way down low
but should the right spices
get blown in our eyes-
We can all swing at the snow.
Copyright ©
one_in_six
... [
2010-03-05 19:04:32] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Distant Taste of Blood
(User Rating: 1 ) by spud on
Saturday, 6th March 2010 @ 08:07:21 AM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
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Hi,
Can't help feeling dread and foreboding!
A fine piece of writing.
Tommy
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