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catcher in the sun
the gleam like shells

brass ignitions
like chinese lanterns

falling wishs
like dead stars

drive about full
the gut tension
past decorated

brilliant meadows
gathered on tests
beyond the thunder
of the periphery

like tracer sickness
pumping in veined
burning hot in Love

we need the taste
of heaven
not nicotine
and Zippo fuel


and pagans
deep in pine forests clutched
on sloped alp sides

christmas bulbs hanging
to the green by pins

while night burns fuel
in static hover dreams

beautiful and technicolour
in the stillness

dog patrol
and snow falls
like a whisper

Editing stage: 


I've been wondering about some of the titles you've
been coming up with. I looked this one up and it seems
one is old Italian, primi being the plural of primo, which
has a few definitions but I'm assuming you meant it as
"highly regarded" here. Ordinis; I only found for old religious
orders. Interesting.

Your poem of course is good, while it seems not to fit
together it actually does.

The content is good because it's what you believe, I on the
other hand am an atheist but I'm no hater, most of my family
are Christians so how could I be. If one finds peace in God
then it's fine with me.

thanks for sharing,


you are correct
at the top there is order
people who actually decide this and that

and of course God

I just want catchy titles is all

thank You Richard!

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