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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 17:44:50 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 98772
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Untitled
[time] => 2005-06-20 20:44:55
[hometext] => Please Comment... and vote.. It is the ONLY way I know if I am any good...
[bodytext] => Would it confuse you if I explained that it’s but a matter of sense that so vitally alchemies me Other? That aside the tedious cacophony of car horns and brakes screeching, cell phones and dogs barking are other hums entwined, discordances of darkness, ballads of emotions sung, whispers of deeds proffered, to the few attentive ears. That amidst the lines of cars, steeples of neighborhood shrines, pacing pedestrians and blighting malls, there cavort reflections and images, flows of power and streams of glow, resplendent auras and dancing memoirs, shadows and rendered dweomer unnoted but through selective vision. That overpowering bitter rich sweets of the ice creams and steaks, cappuccinos, micro brews, and mints, are steely and sanguine flavors, subtle warnings and pleasures, bland desires and sugared dreams sampled by refined tongues ethereally muscled and budded. That beneath the comforting embraces, ugly bruising, arousing fondles and kisses, are an overwhelming warmth of spirit-meshed-spirit coursing to ecstatic coupling burn, the ripple pinprick frost of the restless dead strolling near, the heart-panic-halt of Darkness invading Light, and the fire burgeoning solace of Light in loving rescue rubbed stabbed caressed upon the sensitive marrow, pores of those with unchained flesh. That suffused within garbage and flora, gasoline and barbecue grill are the acrid fumes of untamed wraith, the tea rose linger of a lover's passing thought, the pyre smoke of evil hunts both conveniently forgotten and wished for passionately by monsters yet to come, all noted by the foreign olfaction of the too scarce dwellers in a twilight place. I see by the confusion, fear in your failed mimicry of vision that what I posit is too alien for comprehension or acceptance. Alas, I shall pass quickly onward, heretic tourist in a repressed realm, where facsimile of perception has usurped God’s own senses. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 151 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Brandyx7 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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