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Array
(
[sid] => 23938
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => WENDIGO (game two)
[time] => 2003-09-27 07:25:00
[hometext] => A friend and I sometimes write poetry using word from our Scrabble (TM) games. This is one of those poems.
[bodytext] => She tempts them into running by promising true flight Then burns them to the ground with hardly a good-bye On the eve of the leo she cries, a siren of sin What faith begot, her cult forgot and left her in the din Her sobs reek of pain she begs forgiveness in the dark But it cannot come from the dead it must come from the heart Like the tides of the sea the vibes of her voice Tangle like vines and leave little choice For follow you must like the pagan you are She places your dreams as figs in a jar Draw your card and ante up bet her a femur, bet her an ear; You can’t win playing against the dead but there is nothing left to fear Lean into the wind and wed with a nod Your body turns cold as you dote on the sod Leap into the sun, run with the moon bounce on a ray of light; Stand agape as your spirit quakes on the ridge of the night Fly with the terns feast on the cod The food of famine the food of gods Travel via the seams of time a zoo of mythological dens Cope with your ails as she wails she has been left again Paint a picture with your heart use your soul as the canvas Paint a portrait in your blood lest things should go amiss Silken seams beg for release wendigo calls your name A diva of death, exiled again has only herself to blame. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 248 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Trine_Daily [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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