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Array ( [sid] => 174253 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Journey to International [time] => 2012-11-08 16:07:40 [hometext] => If you take the time to read this nice one, [bodytext] => Our idea of a good evening is made
clear with the faintest of smiles
though I can't arrange my words
or collect my thoughts

The shadow of the sun's heat
steams shifting patterns upon the dirty concrete
people don't trust each other on these streets

With the trains mad impetus
we hurtle on in a frenzied
blur, vivid fragments of life
strike the eye

At times we are free
and beyond the
de-accelerating days of burden
when we trapse listlessly within
irksome cycles and perfunctory routines
at times we are free
and we walk towards
women and cold beer
in peaceful awe of the
rolling slumber of the sea
and the moon bleached sand

I give you the sad difference
between hours laboured
and time spent with friends
thinking again of home...........

I give you the smell of a fresh pack of fags
artexed walls and battered front doors
single pane windows
crusty withered leaves
scattered in the breeze
the scraping sound
of shovel meeting stone
the squelch of wet grass
beneath your feet
only one square acre
of greenbelt and on it;
pylons, shopping trolleys
and traffic cones

The blast of serene sun
upon the weed infested lawn
engenders a hope, it flickers briefly
those smoking embers ignite again, then die
the sun surrenders, and the clouds regain control of the sky




[comments] => 1 [counter] => 140 [topic] => 21 [informant] => flavellm [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
Journey to International

Contributed by flavellm on Thursday, 8th November 2012 @ 04:07:40 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems



Our idea of a good evening is made
clear with the faintest of smiles
though I can't arrange my words
or collect my thoughts

The shadow of the sun's heat
steams shifting patterns upon the dirty concrete
people don't trust each other on these streets

With the trains mad impetus
we hurtle on in a frenzied
blur, vivid fragments of life
strike the eye

At times we are free
and beyond the
de-accelerating days of burden
when we trapse listlessly within
irksome cycles and perfunctory routines
at times we are free
and we walk towards
women and cold beer
in peaceful awe of the
rolling slumber of the sea
and the moon bleached sand

I give you the sad difference
between hours laboured
and time spent with friends
thinking again of home...........

I give you the smell of a fresh pack of fags
artexed walls and battered front doors
single pane windows
crusty withered leaves
scattered in the breeze
the scraping sound
of shovel meeting stone
the squelch of wet grass
beneath your feet
only one square acre
of greenbelt and on it;
pylons, shopping trolleys
and traffic cones

The blast of serene sun
upon the weed infested lawn
engenders a hope, it flickers briefly
those smoking embers ignite again, then die
the sun surrenders, and the clouds regain control of the sky








Copyright © flavellm ... [ 2012-11-08 16:07:40]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Journey to International (User Rating: 1 )
by Deidra_Carmichael on Thursday, 8th November 2012 @ 07:11:41 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I adore the juxtaposition of labor and leisure! These two components make up life and depend on each other to effectively impact one's life. The comparison of "moon bleached sand" and "perfunctory routines" is magnificent! Take care and God bless,
Deidra




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