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Subsitution
pockets of night
follow my legs
around the leap
of living dawn
I am a nerve
metropolis shaking
like the cries of
birds
the beads of drips
descending through
the veins of black
scrawling forth and
out with waiting buds
a ruin of thoughts
peel memories
behind faded
brilliance
I have come
to dab graffiti
worship
ghost artists
knocked out ideals
sulking
and purring
prowling principles
ash rimmed grievances
steadfast eye me
in hazel gaze
I can count love there
stirring like a fresh
day
sharpened and shame
damp
with the grit of its
touch
The bitterness
to Tame
Editing stage:
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Comments
ida
Thu, 2013-05-02 14:55
prey
camafloge of indifference
shows red against the wood
protectionless offering
swift runner
tackled
slowed by want
scent marks the spot
astounding graffitti prowling principles
touche thankyou
Esker
Fri, 2013-05-03 15:02
hmmmm
I roll in the verminous decopauge
arising with tangled fur and wild eyes
nothing more pure then drive
and passion in its heat and throes
or to stretch out yawning in a hot breeze
near a cool creek
the dirt smudges rubbing into my long
Bluenotes designer jeans
the sky above so clear
and near
haunted with memories
and winters emotions
feeling a heartbeat
once beneath my
bare hands
soft and warm..
Geezer
Thu, 2013-05-02 20:55
This sounds...
a lot like the word association tests I was given once! Though they may not be the same thoughts that you thought, I think I follow them. Kinda like dabbing graffiti, in the presence of the artist. ~ Gee
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place
Esker
Fri, 2013-05-03 14:58
poet association...............
I sit alone most days and times....
although many like me here
there has been a rather limited
score of those attempting more...
and when that occured I was
admidst the great derelictions
then.....
I am not the I did
I am the wait see
word association yes
cuts away the chaff of
banter...the fair weather
birds at the feeder
and I eventually see
the prescence of greatness
during a turmoil I saw through
the falsehood of many here
and am able to stand with
those whom are true friends
now...
dreaming to reality...
most dont want to be awoken
but I didnt mind
I value what my intuition already
spoke of
artists are a strange and different
breed...writers too
fascinating creatures with habits
and shadows
blazing brilliant with creative luminous
minds
souls of atrocities
oh the humanity!!!!!!!!!!!
(did I say I love true poets..
poetic geniuse??)
I am tanning and walking
and sitting My eyes becoming
more lighter
grittier
winter that I love is away
and I shall unduly embrace
this summer in her wealth
with all her visual treats
Thank You!