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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 07:51:11 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 147531
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A memory of self unformed.
[time] => 2009-01-20 19:14:23
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => A memory of self unformed. I played as a child. The living universe breathed, As I delighted in my simple seductions. Alive in myriad forms the universe, she Caressed me. I valued tinsel for itself, The days currencey was paid in leaves. The credit of the night, The shadows in the trees. I embraced the blanket of darkness To play at astronomy, Name a star. Aristocraticaly. I dreamt beneath an open window softy. The sweetness of berries & their vulgar stains Coloured my mouth. I would play vampire in the sun Cherishing the sweetness not of neck, but nectars. All play was a riot All child's play. Always drowsily dreaming, Away any school day. Then books I would breathe in, Thier words. Oh! Grandmas what big eyes and glasses you both have. The love of the word became my inheritance. I ran in imagination Drinking from the sweet wellspring, Which gargled up clear water unformed, overflowing & free. All time was mine. But the rodent hour, Brought forth on a sleep somewhere, Somewhere, something scuttles in the deep. Then away with such heaviness & into the dew drop bracken Of spring's lovliness Again, I would be free. Oh! Father, Father forgive me. I misunderstood your meaning & fled your work & scheming.... But I must run & play... And play was my work & my work, my shy joy. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 64 [informant] => incognito_bombastus [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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