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A n g y a l ....................

synthetic our world
wrapped
like the glass
in the snow globe
precarious a balance
the growling station
its visage blazing
filling the room with
its violent light

dirty feet on cold carpets
sticky stains
and bottles with sideworlds
distorted
the door to the bathroom
canted
the shower a black wall
like a great tunnel
the winds surf full of crystal
snow in the cold
biting like a vampyre
the steeples
full of gargoyles guarding

i wanted you spread on the
furs....the carriage skins
your skin in the lights
burning like an oil lamp
the village in the globe
waits for its overcast
for its machine wound
spell to trickle out
the sultry bitterness
of hate flickering
in its shadows
bending in its light

haste to waste
purloined heart
you were poisoned
to the start
now kept remembrances
in a stone keep
the marble cherubs
stain their cheeks
and weep

staring at your ceiling visions
the lace at your throat
the black leatherette
clutch of fingers
the single ring
the heart betroth
the dirty feet
we trundled the wastelands
gasping reasons
in our hungry ache
the burning swelter
the polar chills
that rushed across
our wayward souls
the wary eyes
brilliant
like jade
like copper clad
rooftops
monuments
to the sky torn
in its changeling
race
from the river
frothing in its
pass

the globe village
burns a light
in windows
minature and
sweet

your hair splayed
like a halo
the breath
shallow
like the beating
pipes
from the boiler
beast
beneath the
lobbies marble
cracked and
run with ruin

and the snow
falls in its paths
of flurry
in the park waits
the numb of forever
like birds bunched
in their hunch

the storm of light
shatteres the dark
trailing footsteps
creaking
door keys speaking
flutter eyes
behind the wary heavy
lids
the echos depths
are reaching
like the bells
in the silent village
and everything
is so cold
and snow
white

...

Editing stage: 

Comments

wings
plucked of their feathers
and laid to make a bed
heads rest
and unrest
bodies stealing darkness
as it were birthed to them
the whiteness blinds against
the black night
and warmth has become
a word
lustful and hungry like the wolf
scratching, sniffing
dogging around
and beauty fades
fades away
sharply
on the icy fringes of morrow
yearning for the darkness
to break the brilliant light
and let souls loose
to roam like freshly swirled snow
so cold
so white

Scott

contrast like a sync wave
needle rocking down the highway
does anyone remember what
a real record sounds like
what real microphone test
feels as..

there is magic
still
its here and there
like its always been

sittign in the corner like a strider
walking in shy
like a panther

licks her lips he combs his hair
they were anti heros all along
while the summer took
all night long....

ty

author comment

somewhere in my sleep
i lost the night
the moon peeled like an orange
hanging desperately above
gave a slight glint
on the snow
shadowed my tracks
the panthers tracks
I tracked him
he stalked me
it didn't matter
who killed who
footprints
paw prints
drops of blood
find me
find him
if you dare
one of us is hungry

Scott

I still have some 45rpm records the ones with the big holes in for the juke box, I never throw anything away, some of the audio tapes go back to the sixties,
I myself go back much further lol.
Yours Ian.T

.
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