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Array
(
[sid] => 166385
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Pause.
[time] => 2011-05-24 19:29:21
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I met an angel on the way to hell. She traded this flesh for those bones…but we could never tell. At a point in time when moments weren’t designed to be divine, we stretched these secrets across our lips and let the anticipation bleed through our spines. Call it destiny. Not a riddle, nor a theory…simply, destined to be. At the bottom of the sea, one hundred and forty three million miles away from this galaxy, my city never sleeps. On the corner down the street from my own heartbeat sits a man dressed as a white rabbit in a disguise. If you ask him no questions, he will tell you no lies. His legs were amputated at the knees because he spent his whole life begging, instead of changing. He’s much like the knife I wear in my back…a mere ornament that represents what not to do. Vacant eyes, pretty blue. You know me not, but I’ve certainly met the likes of you. Premonitions don’t exist when one travels through this life with their heart stitched loosely upon their wrist. Atomic bombs and ancients poems. Bloodless hearts and empty homes. I’ve had some of my best conversations on disconnected phones. Pushing words through the air while the world gazes back. Cold & unaware. Here I stand. Dressed in black and feeling blue. Looking back to see if you were looking back at me….looking back at you? Impressions pressed against me. Hold this thought while I gather the rest of me. Pause…..let’s resume. Tea at high noon. We’ll discuss the discussions. The afterlife, and all those other repercussions. Question the questions and mention the unmentionables. You can swim inside my eyes and I’ll dance inside your mind, we’ll rearrange the meaning, because what’s a definition if it can’t be redefined? A meaningless meaning is just a feelingless feeling and I simply don’t exist that way. I’ve got so much love within it bleeds through my skin, but you never seem to understand what it means, so I write these notes and watch it drip across your screen. Slow down. Let’s take another road. Speaking in secret code. Broken windows and sleepy eyes upon deafened ears and untied bow ties. If you know the motive then you know the purpose. Oddly nervous. Things are not always what they seem, even amidst this sleepless dream. So dress me up like a ballerina from medieval times when really I’m just a jester with a broken jaw who speaks in rhymes. Some things just happen. Some things just don’t. I wish you could understand this…but I know that you won’t. So, let’s just drink this poison and float away.
[comments] => 3
[counter] => 326
[topic] => 73
[informant] => bleedthelove
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 13
[ratings] => 3
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => abstract
)
Pause.
Contributed by
bleedthelove
on
Tuesday, 24th May 2011 @ 07:29:21 PM in AEST
Topic:
abstract
|
I met an angel on the way to hell. She traded this flesh for those bones…but we could never tell. At a point in time when moments weren’t designed to be divine, we stretched these secrets across our lips and let the anticipation bleed through our spines. Call it destiny. Not a riddle, nor a theory…simply, destined to be. At the bottom of the sea, one hundred and forty three million miles away from this galaxy, my city never sleeps. On the corner down the street from my own heartbeat sits a man dressed as a white rabbit in a disguise. If you ask him no questions, he will tell you no lies. His legs were amputated at the knees because he spent his whole life begging, instead of changing. He’s much like the knife I wear in my back…a mere ornament that represents what not to do. Vacant eyes, pretty blue. You know me not, but I’ve certainly met the likes of you. Premonitions don’t exist when one travels through this life with their heart stitched loosely upon their wrist. Atomic bombs and ancients poems. Bloodless hearts and empty homes. I’ve had some of my best conversations on disconnected phones. Pushing words through the air while the world gazes back. Cold & unaware. Here I stand. Dressed in black and feeling blue. Looking back to see if you were looking back at me….looking back at you? Impressions pressed against me. Hold this thought while I gather the rest of me. Pause…..let’s resume. Tea at high noon. We’ll discuss the discussions. The afterlife, and all those other repercussions. Question the questions and mention the unmentionables. You can swim inside my eyes and I’ll dance inside your mind, we’ll rearrange the meaning, because what’s a definition if it can’t be redefined? A meaningless meaning is just a feelingless feeling and I simply don’t exist that way. I’ve got so much love within it bleeds through my skin, but you never seem to understand what it means, so I write these notes and watch it drip across your screen. Slow down. Let’s take another road. Speaking in secret code. Broken windows and sleepy eyes upon deafened ears and untied bow ties. If you know the motive then you know the purpose. Oddly nervous. Things are not always what they seem, even amidst this sleepless dream. So dress me up like a ballerina from medieval times when really I’m just a jester with a broken jaw who speaks in rhymes. Some things just happen. Some things just don’t. I wish you could understand this…but I know that you won’t. So, let’s just drink this poison and float away.
Copyright ©
bleedthelove
... [
2011-05-24 19:29:21]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Pause.
(User Rating: 1 )
by northernlights on
Wednesday, 25th May 2011 @ 05:52:31 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| Great write full of expression,rap in style,abstract but demanding answers really enjoyed . |
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Re: Pause.
(User Rating: 1 )
by poeticjestix on
Wednesday, 25th May 2011 @ 11:14:20 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
I liked the content but I personally find it tiring to read prose without at least the occasional tap of the return key.
A minor gripe.
As said before, I like the style and the use of opinion intertwined with image description.
or
I liked the content but I personally find it tiring to read prose without at least the occasional tap of the return key.A minor gripe.As said before, I like the style and the use of opinion intertwined with image description. |
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Re: Pause.
(User Rating: 1 )
by marlenarawrxd on
Wednesday, 25th May 2011 @ 02:50:57 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| What a great read. |
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