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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 12:16:54 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 40203
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Revealed
[time] => 2004-03-25 10:30:29
[hometext] => I guess you could call this automatic writing, I call it a stream of consciousness, words which melted together on my tongue.
[bodytext] => Feeble fascination reveals raw redness beneath the skin The rot of moss and sickly hue Of humours coursing through Rising levels sinking in. Don’t think the chase will end The subtlety of vaguery fades Skin the membrane shield Bludgeoned by the real So old mists pass away. I make no pretence to know The slow swing and fleeting high Gibbets fall and soon dissolve Wooden arms too dry and old… What providence lends, eternity defies. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 208 [topic] => 13 [informant] => we_were_left_darkling [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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