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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 19:26:40 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 106152
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Writesville Beach
[time] => 2005-09-21 14:18:59
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => There is no thing more alienating than standing on a beach in the comatose night. In some way, without necessity nor want of explanation, I feel at once both individual and kindred. Aeons of voices, of stories are expelled in every breaking wave and smoky bubble. And this ebbing, worldly pendulum makes me forget the ticking and counting, and feel for the first time not worldly. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 179 [topic] => 21 [informant] => nosoup4crr [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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