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Array ( [sid] => 2271 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Mi Pasatiempo Favarito [time] => 2002-08-14 08:40:27 [hometext] => The title is spanish for "My favorite pasttime". This is about the pleaseure of a good nap. [bodytext] => Blackness.
The horizon slowly comes into view,
hazy at first, and then eventually clear.
As everything progresses, the sun sets
a million times a day, leaving the universe
varying shades of reds, oranges, yellows and blues.
The omnipresent sun wavers between
the obvious and the oblivious.
The busy little ants dance around the hive,
and the only respite, that sweet sweet respite,
is the daily eclipse, that magical reset button of life.
Blackness.
Then, it all comes back out simultaneously,
not trickling like before.
The dancers, the puppeteers and their puppets,
those who die from cancer and those who are cancer,
those who fear and those who scare,
those who carry drums and those who carry guns,
the dancers, all of them, emerge at the same time
crying, “The show must go on.”
The encore presentation,
only half as long as the original, and usually much less detailed,
ends whenever the ticket holders and stowaways deem it so.
Then, it’s back to the cave, the treasure, the funeral for the horizon,
that great vacation that both kings and prisoners enjoy alike.
With a day-glo welcome mat and a cold glass of milk,
enter the world of eternal happiness.
Enter.
Slowly.
Blackness. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 157 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Butterat_Zool [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
Mi Pasatiempo Favarito

Contributed by Butterat_Zool on Wednesday, 14th August 2002 @ 08:40:27 AM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems



Blackness.
The horizon slowly comes into view,
hazy at first, and then eventually clear.
As everything progresses, the sun sets
a million times a day, leaving the universe
varying shades of reds, oranges, yellows and blues.
The omnipresent sun wavers between
the obvious and the oblivious.
The busy little ants dance around the hive,
and the only respite, that sweet sweet respite,
is the daily eclipse, that magical reset button of life.
Blackness.
Then, it all comes back out simultaneously,
not trickling like before.
The dancers, the puppeteers and their puppets,
those who die from cancer and those who are cancer,
those who fear and those who scare,
those who carry drums and those who carry guns,
the dancers, all of them, emerge at the same time
crying, “The show must go on.”
The encore presentation,
only half as long as the original, and usually much less detailed,
ends whenever the ticket holders and stowaways deem it so.
Then, it’s back to the cave, the treasure, the funeral for the horizon,
that great vacation that both kings and prisoners enjoy alike.
With a day-glo welcome mat and a cold glass of milk,
enter the world of eternal happiness.
Enter.
Slowly.
Blackness.




Copyright © Butterat_Zool ... [ 2002-08-14 08:40:27]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Mi Pasatiempo Favarito (User Rating: 1 )
by Chrissie on Wednesday, 14th August 2002 @ 09:11:38 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Superb imagery here...a wonderful piece.
Chrissie


Re: Mi Pasatiempo Favarito (User Rating: 1 )
by Jule on Tuesday, 17th December 2002 @ 05:34:49 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
this sparks the imagination. very well written.




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