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Poetry
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forfuckssake Sin conexión
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Mensajes: 87
Registro en: Jun 2007
Mensaje: #21
Poetry
My Brother, the Other

by Michael Holmes

I can feel you getting closer as something else moves far away
What's clearing is the bullshit that defined one's history
The King will die, the star was I, clammering for the cheer
As lights go down and curtains bow, no time for one last beer

I can feel you getting closer, I can even smell you now
Is it because you're already here just waiting for my crown?
Take me, break me, make me yours; unbend me to your will
For I leave it all behind- in a heartbeat- standing still.

My brother, the other, a double-life, playing by yourself
Who just as might keep shining light while I'm stuck on the shelf
I long for you, I yearn for you, inspite of unvoiced fears,
That all the action, all my calls will fall on plain deaf ears

My brother, the other, a chance of chances for the second ring
The magic of your very being says you hear everything
So rest assured, true self-assured I'll keep on fighting through
Till what surrounds me falls away and all that's left is you.

Copyright 2007 Michael Holmes
19-Jun-2007 03:22 AM
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smellyfart Sin conexión
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Mensajes: 179
Registro en: Mar 2007
Mensaje: #22
Poetry
Oh! How I wish I had a benefactor,
To lay all plainly bare,
That which would cause me to
Shit my pants,
A soiling that would,
Fertilize those awesome tales.


-anonymous
20-Jun-2007 06:38 PM
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smellyfart Sin conexión
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Mensajes: 179
Registro en: Mar 2007
Mensaje: #23
Poetry
Oh! How I wish I had a benefactor,
To lay all plainly bare,
That which would cause me to
Shit my pants,
A soiling that would,
Fertilize those awesome tales.


-anonymous
20-Jun-2007 06:38 PM
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smellyfart Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 179
Registro en: Mar 2007
Mensaje: #24
Poetry
Oh! How I wish I had a benefactor,
To lay all plainly bare,
That which would cause me to
Shit my pants,
A soiling that would,
Fertilize those awesome tales.


-anonymous
20-Jun-2007 06:38 PM
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ensonar Sin conexión
Senior Member
****

Mensajes: 624
Registro en: Apr 2006
Mensaje: #25
Poetry
The shape of your eyes
Paul Eluard

The shape of your eyes goes round my heart,
A round of dance and sweetness.
Halo of time, cradle nightly and sure
No longer do I know what I've lived,
Your eyes have not always seen me.

Leaves of day and moss of dew,
Reeds of wind and scented smiles,
Wings lighting up the world,
Boats laden with sky and sea,
Hunters of sound and sources of colour,

Scents the echoes of a covey of dawns
Recumbent on the straw of stars,
As the day depends on innocence
The world relies on your pure sight
All my blood courses in its glance.
21-Jun-2007 02:04 PM
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ensonar Sin conexión
Senior Member
****

Mensajes: 624
Registro en: Apr 2006
Mensaje: #26
Poetry
The shape of your eyes
Paul Eluard

The shape of your eyes goes round my heart,
A round of dance and sweetness.
Halo of time, cradle nightly and sure
No longer do I know what I've lived,
Your eyes have not always seen me.

Leaves of day and moss of dew,
Reeds of wind and scented smiles,
Wings lighting up the world,
Boats laden with sky and sea,
Hunters of sound and sources of colour,

Scents the echoes of a covey of dawns
Recumbent on the straw of stars,
As the day depends on innocence
The world relies on your pure sight
All my blood courses in its glance.
21-Jun-2007 02:04 PM
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ensonar Sin conexión
Senior Member
****

Mensajes: 624
Registro en: Apr 2006
Mensaje: #27
Poetry
The shape of your eyes
Paul Eluard

The shape of your eyes goes round my heart,
A round of dance and sweetness.
Halo of time, cradle nightly and sure
No longer do I know what I've lived,
Your eyes have not always seen me.

Leaves of day and moss of dew,
Reeds of wind and scented smiles,
Wings lighting up the world,
Boats laden with sky and sea,
Hunters of sound and sources of colour,

Scents the echoes of a covey of dawns
Recumbent on the straw of stars,
As the day depends on innocence
The world relies on your pure sight
All my blood courses in its glance.
21-Jun-2007 02:04 PM
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smellyfart Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 179
Registro en: Mar 2007
Mensaje: #28
Poetry
The Impeccable Egomaniac gets
Things done
Whether for pleasure or for fun
And when He's done
What's done is done
No time for folly
Cause He's the One.
25-Jun-2007 02:43 PM
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smellyfart Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 179
Registro en: Mar 2007
Mensaje: #29
Poetry
The Impeccable Egomaniac gets
Things done
Whether for pleasure or for fun
And when He's done
What's done is done
No time for folly
Cause He's the One.
25-Jun-2007 02:43 PM
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smellyfart Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 179
Registro en: Mar 2007
Mensaje: #30
Poetry
The Impeccable Egomaniac gets
Things done
Whether for pleasure or for fun
And when He's done
What's done is done
No time for folly
Cause He's the One.
25-Jun-2007 02:43 PM
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joyseph Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 114
Registro en: Dec 2006
Mensaje: #31
Poetry
Did You See His Name?

It’s the black spot that,
manifesting before my eyes,
darting ‘cross the room,
smacking my right chest,
is emphatically not there.
Utterly shocking the night
as I climbed into bed
I saw myself lying:
a honeyed cocoon banded
in molasses veins and with
a rime ‘round the cap.
Confounding that.
Now it’s the sky
seethes its dance down
in delta rays, swimming
so alive and shadows pass by,
bright streamers too.
Not sufficient after all, but
curtains of driven unreal snow
blow offhand in the dark green
recesses of most trees.
The air eminently,
but everything withal,
writhes in constant
megacosmic bliss ... or agony.
This is what I see.

joyseph[br]joystjohn's page
10-Jul-2007 08:47 PM
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joyseph Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 114
Registro en: Dec 2006
Mensaje: #32
Poetry
Did You See His Name?

It’s the black spot that,
manifesting before my eyes,
darting ‘cross the room,
smacking my right chest,
is emphatically not there.
Utterly shocking the night
as I climbed into bed
I saw myself lying:
a honeyed cocoon banded
in molasses veins and with
a rime ‘round the cap.
Confounding that.
Now it’s the sky
seethes its dance down
in delta rays, swimming
so alive and shadows pass by,
bright streamers too.
Not sufficient after all, but
curtains of driven unreal snow
blow offhand in the dark green
recesses of most trees.
The air eminently,
but everything withal,
writhes in constant
megacosmic bliss ... or agony.
This is what I see.

joyseph[br]joystjohn's page
10-Jul-2007 08:47 PM
Visita su sitio web Encuentra todos sus mensajes
joyseph Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 114
Registro en: Dec 2006
Mensaje: #33
Poetry
Did You See His Name?

It’s the black spot that,
manifesting before my eyes,
darting ‘cross the room,
smacking my right chest,
is emphatically not there.
Utterly shocking the night
as I climbed into bed
I saw myself lying:
a honeyed cocoon banded
in molasses veins and with
a rime ‘round the cap.
Confounding that.
Now it’s the sky
seethes its dance down
in delta rays, swimming
so alive and shadows pass by,
bright streamers too.
Not sufficient after all, but
curtains of driven unreal snow
blow offhand in the dark green
recesses of most trees.
The air eminently,
but everything withal,
writhes in constant
megacosmic bliss ... or agony.
This is what I see.

joyseph[br]joystjohn's page
10-Jul-2007 08:47 PM
Visita su sitio web Encuentra todos sus mensajes
joyseph Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 114
Registro en: Dec 2006
Mensaje: #34
Poetry
Lovelace Revisited

My mind to me a kingdom is,
Was the gallant poet's song.
Our minds are democracies,
And that's what's wrong.

Every whim has a vote,
Every passion is free to speak.
Our lives are turned upside down,
With a change of government every week.

Sometimes the 'Prime Minister' pleads,
Sometimes tries to be strong,
But take it either way,
He -- or she -- doesn't last long.

The monarchical principle
Is badly needed, that's plain,
In the mind at least, if it
Is to be a kingdom again.

-- Sangharakshita

joyseph[br]joystjohn's page
10-Jul-2007 09:09 PM
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joyseph Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 114
Registro en: Dec 2006
Mensaje: #35
Poetry
Lovelace Revisited

My mind to me a kingdom is,
Was the gallant poet's song.
Our minds are democracies,
And that's what's wrong.

Every whim has a vote,
Every passion is free to speak.
Our lives are turned upside down,
With a change of government every week.

Sometimes the 'Prime Minister' pleads,
Sometimes tries to be strong,
But take it either way,
He -- or she -- doesn't last long.

The monarchical principle
Is badly needed, that's plain,
In the mind at least, if it
Is to be a kingdom again.

-- Sangharakshita

joyseph[br]joystjohn's page
10-Jul-2007 09:09 PM
Visita su sitio web Encuentra todos sus mensajes
joyseph Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 114
Registro en: Dec 2006
Mensaje: #36
Poetry
Lovelace Revisited

My mind to me a kingdom is,
Was the gallant poet's song.
Our minds are democracies,
And that's what's wrong.

Every whim has a vote,
Every passion is free to speak.
Our lives are turned upside down,
With a change of government every week.

Sometimes the 'Prime Minister' pleads,
Sometimes tries to be strong,
But take it either way,
He -- or she -- doesn't last long.

The monarchical principle
Is badly needed, that's plain,
In the mind at least, if it
Is to be a kingdom again.

-- Sangharakshita

joyseph[br]joystjohn's page
10-Jul-2007 09:09 PM
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regicide Sin conexión
Member
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Mensajes: 101
Registro en: Jul 2007
Mensaje: #37
Poetry
A gift of meaning.
I am shackled in purpose.
A changing purpose,
It flows where it is led.
Leading,
I yield to the silence which surrounds me.
Moving,
Thru the silence that can't be found.

-Rabbi Levi Yitzhak
08-Aug-2007 08:14 PM
Encuentra todos sus mensajes
regicide Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 101
Registro en: Jul 2007
Mensaje: #38
Poetry
A gift of meaning.
I am shackled in purpose.
A changing purpose,
It flows where it is led.
Leading,
I yield to the silence which surrounds me.
Moving,
Thru the silence that can't be found.

-Rabbi Levi Yitzhak
08-Aug-2007 08:14 PM
Encuentra todos sus mensajes
regicide Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 101
Registro en: Jul 2007
Mensaje: #39
Poetry
A gift of meaning.
I am shackled in purpose.
A changing purpose,
It flows where it is led.
Leading,
I yield to the silence which surrounds me.
Moving,
Thru the silence that can't be found.

-Rabbi Levi Yitzhak
08-Aug-2007 08:14 PM
Encuentra todos sus mensajes
regicide Sin conexión
Member
***

Mensajes: 101
Registro en: Jul 2007
Mensaje: #40
Poetry
Tattered mirage.
This incessant pacing.
Driving me into the arms of the Other.
Those arms they kill.
Those arms they heal.
Freely giving all I've never known.
10-Sep-2007 09:34 PM
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