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Submitted by orgami on 22 August 2007 - 12:35am.| Updated 22 August 2007 - 1:35am.
Style / Type:
freeform
gilded moon lays down her sweet sweet head
and drinks the soothing bitterness
while utterances in the gallery
stutter
sharp dancing votive flames
we bring
our silk hands and secret rings
braids of copious albino tethers
float like mystic feathers
sky geese
and star chariots
her eyes make we weep
for all that shes seen
all her scars
whipped mercies
light another slender taper
meditate beside the fakir
i want what i cannot hold
i hear what is never spoken
my pleasure moon
has left my room
whisper
starfeilds witness
..O..
god knows what this is about i am just tired
half asleep here at the switch hitting keys
but it has something to do with this albino
woman and her pale hued eyes
like a wolf in a different wavelength
something from the cold desert of moon
This poem was hauntingly beautiful
and quite scary.
Til I read your post poem comments. That really pissed me off. Don’t rip yourself off that way! It makes me really angry. Your poems stand by themselves, beautifully, hauntingly, sometimes grittily real, but please never ever excuse them like that. If i was in your suburb I would come round and smack you in the head!
cheers,
Jess
round morns watched towers
not all my poems are great
(says one out there)
this will never stop my writing
and i truly was tired when i wrote
this peice
we had an albino go to our school
and it was stressed to just treat her
as normal
yet
the memory of her and every other
person i have seen i confess affects
me not as normal
albinos that is
most i have seen have long flowing hair
and go about uncovered
opposite of goths and their veils and long
skirts
to me they are exotic
feel free to come round my suburb and take
a swat at me Weirdelf
mostly im write here righting away