

The Chalice Drained by SolomonWho are we, and what have we become?The Chalice Drained by Solomon
I am questioning the Ones that question answers like stone-laced-feathered wings, breaking the flight of Those that Drown in Dust.
Perhaps they tear skeptics from droplets in the rain, and offer nails in blood-rimmed glasses: and this they drink for they are water, cling to
nothing, know of
nothing, understand nothing that is tangible for [nothing is tangible] and repel what is clung to in the liquid.
Liquid, is what I am, nothing solid, nothing nothing what i


The Living UndeadShe's a field of purple daffodils that wave when grass is still, clinging to the wind and letting go when ripped up byThe Living Undead
the roots, losing loss itself within these
roots - extending blue blood that clashes with red in smoke conglomerating into serpents, fire wyrms in a sea of texture mirroring swollen- stitched, cloth patched with rips
against
seams - holding tattered pieces of his sleeve that bears a heart, beating ribbons of
hemmorhage as he exhales clouds that billow in the
cold - composure clinging
to ou


Plea of a Paraplegic[metaphorically speaking, that is.]Plea of a Paraplegic
The further one matures, the less words are spoken.
I find silence a wonderful companion, though merely to get lost in a reverie. In clouds of swirling dust, as pandemonium, Pandora-box-strewn shorelines swimming in a sea of nothing.
There are so many things, so many things I could tell you. So many I could show you; but would you truly want me to? Would the hermit crab recoil within the shroud that shelters frozen irises?
I am overcome by my right brain; my perception of organization is somewhat-more-than-skewed in the eyes of my parents. Though they only


Pourquoi m as-tu oubliePourqoui m'as-tu oublié?Pourquoi m as-tu oublie
Elle a chuchoté avec des épaisses tonalités dans une marée baissante des incantations salées, comme des vagues s'est élevé à la crête sur l'ébène rivages déchiquetés.
Elle porte des mémoires comme des précieux dollars détaillés de sable et coquilles en spirale de mer - verrouillés dans sa poitrine, à la gauche de son sein, croissance lourde avec le fardeau des numéros romains.
Chantez-moi, elle respire, s'accrochant au sable qui, comme le contenu de sa poitrine, creuse profondément dans sa peau, laissant des fragments &n
Devious Comments
--
Love is a response to our highest values.
Click here to see my photography, drawings, etc.
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
you can take a look at my page..
P.S. MOC has got to be one of the coolest names
--
"Dream as if you'll live forever, Live as if you'll die today!"
-James Dean
Live each day...
to the fullest...
Previous Page12345... Next Page