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F R O T H
jagged curve
rush up and touch
flesh free
the quick and ravaged
thrown down the hall
while the dream tilts
and the picture glass
scrawls a scream
in the quiet the rain fall
is gentle
forest dark as night
this easement
as a replacement
a heart that can never
be held
a pain fresh
a scar sky
night is spilling
from her drains
drawing all away
and I wash
and wash
in the waterfall
in the waterfall
of tears
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Comments
Nordic cloud
Fri, 2012-05-04 10:11
I lie deep under the water
I lie deep under the water
watching the blue scar of the sky
Wash and wash in the waterfalls
the spume of gathered rhythms
coveted by currents
furious and free
while the ever slow
moving carpet of the forest
silently strokes the earth
with its wisdom.
Nordic cloud.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
loved
Fri, 2012-05-04 14:01
Both are so exquistely beautiful
what can one say but convey
G R A T I T U D E
for lovely words
S H A R E D
loved
Nordic cloud
Fri, 2012-05-04 14:06
If you mean me M/s, then
If you mean me M/s, then thank you,
Steven's words always inspire don't they?
Ann.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
Esker
Fri, 2012-05-04 18:29
poet ic
Thank You for comment s and poetry words
I went to the little creek by the train station and our mall
not very wide but has a lovely voice and clear spring colour
not tannic.... there are quiet little places in our world
to revive the soul LIke poetry and poets
thank you
loved
Fri, 2012-05-04 20:19
But of course....
two great poetic minds
need a salute.
loved
judyanne
Sat, 2012-05-05 11:57
again esker
you have me captivated
i just love
'night is spilling
from her drains'
and the finish is awesome
'and I wash
and wash
in the waterfall
in the waterfall
of tears'
nothing to crit
i enjoyed this
love judy
xxx
'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)
Esker
Sat, 2012-05-05 15:24
dark beneath the feeble light
"madness is reality" my muse in the city
and I talking one day
this is about love
about madness
obsession
etc
darkness of course
reality for most has rough edges
a boundary
some its completely different
I borrowed this and that from many
a memory and thought story etc
Macbeth (hate even writing the name)
with Lady Macbeth washing her hands
murder testimony from the convicted
on how they cried while dispatching
the "love" object
lust love ambition redemption twisted
plots all my favourite Poe was great
for these
I love in my city how the creeks and
rivers flow and they built the city over
top but here and there they emerge
from the embankments or
streets to remerge spilling from
a culvert etc
quiet little places natural
think of tears falling and the mascara
streaming the love letters gripped
and crumpled with their ink smeared
words the goodbye letter
etc
passion in her cups swaying
the stagger of the emotion
the swell tidal wave of that
reaction
etc etc