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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 11-June 03:06:35 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 142179
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Basement Tape (nil)
[time] => 2008-05-06 21:18:29
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Under October’s feet stands a priest picking up the ashes of those he ever loved and those he’ll never meet. Maybe it was suppose to end this way? Holy Brother of the Juniper Gardens with the sackcloth of infertility, a motionless cymbal. This is the sound of the basement tape; this is the kingdom of seclusion. You’ll be thrown under the ventricle valleys, you’ll be lead away like a widow burying her stones. Those who choose to follow, those who choose to eat from the crop that grows from the anchors must deny it. But if we’re to cut down the rainforests and append them among the cross, would we be that much closer to meeting God? “I doubt it!” said the Walrus. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 199 [topic] => 48 [informant] => somedude [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
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