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Array ( [sid] => 6273 [catid] => 1 [aid] => Mick [title] => shameless submission [time] => 2002-11-06 02:20:00 [hometext] => i don't know what this poem is about...it's highly open to interpretation...please let me know what you think [bodytext] => my hands are cold
i suppose that i should warm them
but the sun is still cold
and i care not to venture outside
when you're watching through your window
the warmth is gone
and dead and i don't care if i live or die
you will submit to the shame
like it or not
and you will do exactly what you're taught
oh, just play the role that you were given
and all shall be forgiven
plastic molds of dead-eyed children
my hands are cold. i just don't care
who is that there? i embedded you in my eyelids
a young blond cheerleader talking on a cell phone
you will sit with me on the sidewalk
and we shall speak lightly even though
our eyes betray
our nervousness at a sad state of affairs
the government has been overthrown
we are all anarchists and atheists
there's a bird inside the house and i don't like it
i have no opinion anyway
someone's in the driveway

my hands are cold, i'm sickly green
and i don't want your lies
i see inevitable truth inside your lying eyes

you shall submit to what has always been
i have no opinion anyway
someone strange is at the door

[comments] => 1 [counter] => 165 [topic] => 25 [informant] => Blue [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
shameless submission

Contributed by Blue on Wednesday, 6th November 2002 @ 02:20:00 AM in AEST
Topic: MiscPoems



my hands are cold
i suppose that i should warm them
but the sun is still cold
and i care not to venture outside
when you're watching through your window
the warmth is gone
and dead and i don't care if i live or die
you will submit to the shame
like it or not
and you will do exactly what you're taught
oh, just play the role that you were given
and all shall be forgiven
plastic molds of dead-eyed children
my hands are cold. i just don't care
who is that there? i embedded you in my eyelids
a young blond cheerleader talking on a cell phone
you will sit with me on the sidewalk
and we shall speak lightly even though
our eyes betray
our nervousness at a sad state of affairs
the government has been overthrown
we are all anarchists and atheists
there's a bird inside the house and i don't like it
i have no opinion anyway
someone's in the driveway

my hands are cold, i'm sickly green
and i don't want your lies
i see inevitable truth inside your lying eyes

you shall submit to what has always been
i have no opinion anyway
someone strange is at the door





Copyright © Blue ... [ 2002-11-06 02:20:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: shameless submission (User Rating: 1 )
by penman on Wednesday, 6th November 2002 @ 02:14:44 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I think your poem connects with some inner needs or longings. A summoning of images blended together because they intwine several passions and moods. The imagery squeezes tightly at purposes of need and desire. Sometimes though it may appear as rambling, this kind of "distance" in thought brings insight with reflection, alone and quietly. Then the muses voice will whisper what only heart currenly understands.




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