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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 12-June 13:51:31 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 144472
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => High the blithe birds sing
[time] => 2008-08-09 16:44:22
[hometext] => always, abraham
[bodytext] => High the blithe birds sing, lo the end, the paltry ring of tears and sorrow. Detachment serves well the flooding simile, else our souls drip gluts of rain and imagery, where scattered, gallant dreams drop from a window pane to find shade in the boundaries of a glass and iron overhang in the toad like and serpentine pulse of the traffic below. I pause and the words no longer flow, or become an effigy on plain paper stained with dividends and low, inaugurated words with no syllables yielding to the straining pass of a voice unfamiliar with silence. I lift the world downcast, the mountains thread the dreary head of an ending, silver bay, and run aground the stars that lead the way to hope and glory. Again, I pause, and the words pause with me. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 73 [informant] => iodinelove [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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