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Array
(
[sid] => 168602
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Nature is life
[time] => 2011-11-15 06:24:12
[hometext] => Natures presence is always felt, like a continuing stream of nagative thoughts.
[bodytext] => Wet mud desperately clambers to a milky white surface. A surface creased with uncertain dry gray. This mud caked man lays in a field. The dark sky over shadows him. The hilly ground is fluently uncertain of it height. Desperately trying to reach up and kiss the unforeseeable might. Brown rags are tied down to the mans waist But set free by the wind, they snap back and forth. Unsure of where to go, they are controlled and manipulated. A rock sits cupped within the grass, meters away. More still than any existence. The scattered grass lays soaked and dirty. The wind battles desperately seeking to corrupt its innocence. But its weight controls it keeping it safe. . A light howl sounds into the escaping afternoon. The rain is jealous of the winds subtle yet effective presence. It begins to attack down, its fury, overwhelming. It wants to control all, its passion is never ending. The cold chill that is forever present, stings the man sourly. Bombarding the inner mind, causing an uncomfortable shake. A colourful tent glows in the hopeful distance. Taunting enjoyment, appreciation and never ending protection. It sways in the wind housing a dim glow.. An endless amount of time is felt in a second. Impatience does not exist, only pure wellbeing. There is no impressing nature and all its relentless force. There is inner aged warmth, fuelled by nonentity. A dim hazy glow, making everything well. The past present and future means nothing. The man lays content. Isolated, a part of the egoless nature. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 78 [topic] => 27 [informant] => YoungandAngry [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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