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Array
(
[sid] => 151837
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => matters to us
[time] => 2009-07-30 11:00:02
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => you will receive yours it's rising rude sparing nothing wandering before me I believed the crazy face so this is what I do nothing morning waiting best write this down asshat serpent marathon tapper push against I don't know how to love the (w)hole speech makes poems are magically hooking one emotional experience away from a crisis whistling an unloyal tune the paragraphs loom getting huge soaking up what reeks talking up the wrong tree hugging inward floating to destroy your way in ignoring your green-flag waving you bar king joke worker there is an exit Fate's clock never generous up at dawn stalking chains break back and forth comparing empty windows I assume the here-after as lost ammo willingly done twisting with words pushed away ears turn pain to ink mistakes parallel to imaginary full feeling tiny moments of aging here I am a rocking chair drafted to maintain without pause the real thing searching that uncommitted memory of balance who owns this turn? velocity may answer its angle sliding a lonesome rhythm circles vortex thick with witches typing friendship energy prompting the light on unwise visions of questions never asked light the candle for the hawk sparkles here ole man crow black dog finds the lizard while shadow-dop hides with squirrel totems turn to offer a cup of night to soothe the savage self put this poem under your asshat were it matters to me. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 144 [topic] => 73 [informant] => ming [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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