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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:28:41 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 146799
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Creedless Season
[time] => 2008-12-12 17:55:42
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Maybe Earth will swivel Away from the great stove In the sky. Subsequently, men snivel As winter approaches; The Earth-eye can suavely rove In its black socket, But men are sicker, Surrendering glory To the trees made wicker— The fall turned hoary. Maybe fruit will shrivel Like dried, enervated brains Of creedless men, Or their sudden Lonely gods. Grains Are bent, taut barrels burst Their wines. No libations today, No wind-wafted prayer From men adroit And debonair. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 150 [topic] => 27 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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