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Array ( [sid] => 119826 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Nothing left to say (white walls) [time] => 2006-05-10 18:20:18 [hometext] => n/a always, abraham [bodytext] => There is nothing left to say.
I sit quietly, alone; full of ideas, full of *****.
The world flashes a mad grin and slithers down my spine.
A star begins to press at the boundaries of my vision, skirting away even as I consider the profundity of its existence.
It is much like my own existence.

A white wall, or peach; a glass woman seeking the foot of my bed; books, a hat, soda cans, dust and dust and dust with shirts and shoes.
Spare change sleeps soundly to my left; an A&W mug mocks the face of my face, a prism in the distant thunder of my dreams.

There is a war to end all war painted on every street, in every window, in every breath breathed.
We are so quick to occupy our minds.
I remember the way the light hit the sequins of her dress.
I remember fire, lifted over Arizona skies.
I remember laughter, and more, I remember my own laughter.
It is justice served that I am set here, alone.
It is justice served that I am bitter, lonely memory.

It is true; I have nothing left to say.
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 190 [topic] => 48 [informant] => iodinelove [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )

Nothing left to say (white walls)

Contributed by iodinelove on Wednesday, 10th May 2006 @ 06:20:18 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

There is nothing left to say.
I sit quietly, alone; full of ideas, full of *****.
The world flashes a mad grin and slithers down my spine.
A star begins to press at the boundaries of my vision, skirting away even as I consider the profundity of its existence.
It is much like my own existence.

A white wall, or peach; a glass woman seeking the foot of my bed; books, a hat, soda cans, dust and dust and dust with shirts and shoes.
Spare change sleeps soundly to my left; an A&W mug mocks the face of my face, a prism in the distant thunder of my dreams.

There is a war to end all war painted on every street, in every window, in every breath breathed.
We are so quick to occupy our minds.
I remember the way the light hit the sequins of her dress.
I remember fire, lifted over Arizona skies.
I remember laughter, and more, I remember my own laughter.
It is justice served that I am set here, alone.
It is justice served that I am bitter, lonely memory.

It is true; I have nothing left to say.

Copyright © iodinelove ... [ 2006-05-10 18:20:18]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Nothing left to say (white walls) (User Rating: 1 )
by Lo2681 on Wednesday, 10th May 2006 @ 06:46:02 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I really enjoyed this peace. There always reaches a point in all situations in life where you have said all u can and done all u can. And " there is nothing left to say". This is a good life lesson.

~ Lo

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