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Array ( [sid] => 156817 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Cobblestone Curfew [time] => 2010-01-20 04:50:31 [hometext] => Taken from a collection of my short writings called Hooks & Poles. [bodytext] => Writings are themed on rain, umbrellas and storms without making direct reference to them.



Collisions of crystal reshape and mold a population. Panic rises and common sense is displaced when the wars rage on the dwelling doorsteps of Lieutenants, Bankers, Painters and Potters. A delayed start doesn’t stop the clocks constant tic but when the hand strikes it is with reservation the doors are opened to the no-man’s land that lies outside.

Skies of smoke that seem to unceasingly crumble with each passing yard. Swollen with irascible irritation a Cobblestone Curfew is declared. Cease movement and darken your windows, is the broadcast; light candles on the mantles that line your halls for a Cobblestone Curfew is in place.

Steered strong with direction the Lieutenants and Bankers break curfew and slip away undercover to tread upon the forsaken no-mans land. Shrapnel sprays as crystal shards dissolve into suits, sucking any sense of excitement out of their escapades.

Mean while, the painters and potters who uphold the Cobblestone Curfew thrive in this newfound sense of secrecy created in silence.



[comments] => 0 [counter] => 216 [topic] => 73 [informant] => Capian [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
The Cobblestone Curfew

Contributed by Capian on Wednesday, 20th January 2010 @ 04:50:31 AM in AEST
Topic: abstract



Writings are themed on rain, umbrellas and storms without making direct reference to them.



Collisions of crystal reshape and mold a population. Panic rises and common sense is displaced when the wars rage on the dwelling doorsteps of Lieutenants, Bankers, Painters and Potters. A delayed start doesn’t stop the clocks constant tic but when the hand strikes it is with reservation the doors are opened to the no-man’s land that lies outside.

Skies of smoke that seem to unceasingly crumble with each passing yard. Swollen with irascible irritation a Cobblestone Curfew is declared. Cease movement and darken your windows, is the broadcast; light candles on the mantles that line your halls for a Cobblestone Curfew is in place.

Steered strong with direction the Lieutenants and Bankers break curfew and slip away undercover to tread upon the forsaken no-mans land. Shrapnel sprays as crystal shards dissolve into suits, sucking any sense of excitement out of their escapades.

Mean while, the painters and potters who uphold the Cobblestone Curfew thrive in this newfound sense of secrecy created in silence.







Copyright © Capian ... [ 2010-01-20 04:50:31]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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