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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 19:26:28 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 135766
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Dead Leaves
[time] => 2007-07-06 16:28:23
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => it comes when the leaves are backlit with red when collective confusion shadows the sun and only then does it feel bright silently amongst a crowd of strangers the need for a horn presents itself trembling internally for that elevated echo to ascend the celeste in hopes our ears will deafen to the sound in hopes the sound opens the valves of our tear ducts provoking our most dormant recesses to flood our filth undressing the abashed and when the leaves finally become consumed by worms, hidden from the blaze of the over rated, it finds a level of comfort beneath the nights spherical medium, rotating around our axis waxing and waning as one with the echoes of the past and these are the calls from those we never see [comments] => 2 [counter] => 182 [topic] => 43 [informant] => espeeayzee [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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