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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:04:01 AEST | ||
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[sid] => 76598
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Offering of Insects
[time] => 2004-12-20 14:44:51
[hometext] => The second segment of this poem is featured in Poe Little Thing, Issue # 2! Poe Little Thing is an extension of Naked Snake Press. This poem, along with my recent posted poems, is part of my next book called Time Spent Meandering Through the Galaxy.
[bodytext] => Segment I. Sunlight pours Through the Elusive curtains I am found In the lonesome drained river Of Mars; it used to be filled with blood and mercy Sunlight pours into A stuffy room Of ethreal essence Below the surface of cement There is a cellar leading To a hidden room Far away from Their advanced society Sometimes we wish to reminisce The spiritual nature of deities I can only see the sentence through For I've got centuries of eye-sores In my mind Jarring, emptying Out my fears 'neath the ironic moon I'm not going to miss it I will not sorely miss it Sure, there is not much truth in it Oh, why to have lived so long And not realize That I was undermining My own existence Guess you, too, could live there In that place It's a house of many Doorsteps and a Welcome mat that says, "Welcome Back, Ya Slick Rat!" I don't want to discourage You from turning yourself in To the Authorities You really belong somewhere It's probably for the best That you're locked up I want you to think not Of courageous limo rides Or taxi fares in the Morning rush to get to some Important business meeting I want you to think of What you will be thinking Not the 'now' you have Created with your Sugar substitutes and Fat-free meals but with A mind that thinks of the 'now' That you have truly Come to embody You don't know Who you really should be Well, listen here It's okay We've all Felt That way Do firemen spit fire? No, they help to put fires out Do unholy men seek the Cup of Life? No, they seek the road of doubt. Caught in a lumberjack tribe Thumbs on guns let's shoot out The hazy sky Segment II. Eat what is on your plate Seconds together Are a minute too late Crickets, preying mantis, Water bugs, ants (If you eat nine fire ants Instead of just ten, You will grow eight fire ant Totem poles on your chin) In the night time world's Cherubim girl Do not deny that your mind resides In the house of sin You can't decide how to play hopscotch W/the concept of zen Art is defined as Folly, want a Quaker? What if one was to fall asleep For one hundred years and awaken To a state of epiphany? [comments] => 2 [counter] => 199 [topic] => 53 [informant] => Lee [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => scifi )
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