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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 22:02:48 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 85619
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Living in the Moment
[time] => 2005-02-24 19:06:01
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Sitting on the couch, watching Friends, the bedroom calls, but that depends on whether I get a kiss tonight. Emotion is a torrent of drying rain, a puzzling phenom that tends to wane when I try to isolate, create, no, rejuvinate my soul to take control of this situation. I lead with ninety, she gives me ten, I wake her body, she pulses then convulses caving to impulses she guides me to the bedroom door. Words were always half the battle, an undertaker, or serpents rattle telling of the actions to come, adding two to equal one, or just finding one. All I can do is breathe you in. All I can do is stay within this bursting supernova exploding, caustic river overflowing, rocket ship with engines blowing wordless expressions into the cosmos. Love is an avalanche burying rhyme or reason. The feeling, the sensation, the pure elation of the touch, the feel, the knowing it's real is enough for the gods to write poetry about. And they have. There is no doubt that what is left here in that room betwwen bedroom sheets and the dawning gloom, is the mark for all to see, life's litle limerick, God's poetry. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 171 [topic] => 31 [informant] => CodyJ [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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