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Array
(
[sid] => 84396
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The next chapter
[time] => 2005-02-14 16:24:27
[hometext] => When I wrote this poem, I was struck by the size of the page I was writing on. It's a lot bigger than what I am used to, and so in a way, it presents a different challenge that I must adapt to.
[bodytext] => There is such a contrast between the old space and the new. A new freedom lies within this chapter. There are no comparisons, no criminal recorded jarogons, spilled forward 10 degrees, slightly angled out the back door, no escape routs, no mingling strangers ******* in ally ways, puking in sidewalk cracks, giving advice, calling your name through gasps and dry heaves. No. In this new space there is a clear and flowing page, an endless echo, rising, calling my name, demanding to be observed. Clean cut, along dark pages lining the ink's interrior. Half of the passage leaves trace marks of what once was, an eye wavering inside and out, back and forth, giggling and piercing glances toward doubters and non believers, swearing on the palms of sliced memories, childhood dreams of future's destiny that stood before you were born, in a life stream of angles and devils, soaring above river beds and ice coves, dancing with eyes closed, beaming grace, insane, flattered, beckoning, three-fourth's full, water dried, condensed under the pressure of the sun's fixed eye, transparent. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 158 [topic] => 43 [informant] => zenmind [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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