LOVE'S DAWN
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Posted:Apr 21, 2006 12:01 pm
Last Updated:Oct 5, 2006 4:08 pm
2531 Views
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Silver grace upon the shore lapping at the purple sounds of Dawn, soft-whispering drizzle. Salty kisses of spiced air caressing the velvet complexion of Your breasts. Wake up Love, glorious of Moon's phase, wake up Love, be dressed anew in morning blue, of dew, and haze.
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Inspired by the work of Huntress7878.
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Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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THE FERRYMAN COMETH
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Posted:Apr 17, 2006 4:03 pm
Last Updated:Aug 1, 2007 8:03 pm
2572 Views
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Shores silvered by a churning sea, grey wisdom of an enraged Moon, echoes of songs amidst the wind. His will and eyes wide shut he rows guided by Her choice. Mindless arms stiff of work and salt, pounding heart to loving voice. Entrapped his path, untimely long, his being rides the Siren's song. And when he comes his wretched spirit will lie voicelessly at Her feet. Her glorious gifts she will dispense, endless the ending of his trip.
-------------------------------- In its original version, this was posted as a comment to the blog by [blog Huntress7878]. It is posted here in its final version upon Her request. --------------------------------
Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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3
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THE CELIBATE ORNITHOLOGIST
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Posted:Apr 13, 2006 2:55 pm
Last Updated:May 9, 2006 4:03 pm
2514 Views
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I have no one to kill. What a pity! You would say, what is the difference of a hen? I am writing to deny my story. Yes, I would answer, exit but where from?
--------------------------------- An "avant-guard" poem for those to be amused or be thoughtful.
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Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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3
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TROY
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Posted:Apr 9, 2006 1:06 pm
Last Updated:May 9, 2006 4:04 pm
2510 Views
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If you do not have a Troy to live for let your heart create one for you. Live for the windy breath on the leaves, for a warm pebble on the lips of the wave. Live for the insignificant light of the mirror, for a faint blue vein on her bright face, almost transparent above the imperceptible eyebrow. Live for a celebration on her soft breasts or only for her to materialize in your vision. "We shall not speak when hard we are hit by sunlight".
Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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6
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MY PARADISE
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Posted:Apr 6, 2006 4:39 pm
Last Updated:May 9, 2006 4:04 pm
2507 Views
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"My paradise is a field that has no roots, that has no branches"
.....................F. G. Lorca
The image vaporizes, a drop on a glass panel, withered love, hit by sunlight. My paradise burns without flame or pain. A black ink stain on white paper, fading contrast. How has life shrunk so much?
Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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4
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UNFLOWER
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Posted:Mar 31, 2006 2:49 pm
Last Updated:May 9, 2006 4:05 pm
2542 Views
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I love the scar upon your breast through which I feel the pain of your soul. I love the line beside your lips austere beyond the wisdom of the owl. I love your suffering of many a year through sorrow and solitude it brings us close. I love the time that passed on you, dear, blooming with passion, kind, and beautiful, thorn of a rose.
Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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4
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Born in debt
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Posted:Mar 28, 2006 11:30 am
Last Updated:May 12, 2006 8:16 pm
2586 Views
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Sad day today: it was announced that the great science fiction and political writer Stanislav Lem died. It was also announced that out of the 25 billion dollars invested in clean water only 1 per cent went to sub-Saharan Africa! Finally the US debt "clock" is running out of digits as the government debt apporaches 9 trillion dollars. This corresponds to about 90,000 dollars per US family! Every is born in debt!!!!
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Tagged, oops!
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Posted:Mar 25, 2006 3:48 pm
Last Updated:Aug 6, 2007 6:31 pm
2613 Views
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Interestingly enough I have been tagged! Normally being the most stubborn person who absolutely refuses to do what is requested I would be highly inclined not to respond. However, I figured that getting tagged means that somebody pays some attention. In my case it was kissmystuff who kindly invited me to this game. Therefore, I have decided to be a good sport and participate. Here is a list of six weird things about me:
1. I exist. This fact has always amazed me since it exceeds the limits of my imagination.
2. I have lived in three continents (Africa, Europe, and North America).
3. I do not watch television.
4. I strongly dislike yogurt and jello.
5. Once I took a U-turn driving at 100 Km/hr (62 mph) in a street that was 12 meters (36 feet) wide without hitting the brick fences on either side. I will not do this again unless I absolutely have to.
6. I have grandchildren without having any .
Now I have to tag the following handles (if they have been tagged already they need not respond):
Fallen_Angel_777
startlight_runner
sexyeyes375
Sallypuss
keithcancook
allsleeky
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4
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CLOSE
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Posted:Mar 24, 2006 3:32 pm
Last Updated:May 9, 2006 4:05 pm
2440 Views
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In the whisper of Dawn's light riding on dreamy clouds over the ocean I can feel your bare essence reverberating in my empty cave. If it is to be, it will not be to touch. If it is to be touched, then it will not be. If it is not to be, it will have to be now. My electromagnetic arm reaches out for you in blue, red, purple, and smile within which you handsomely reside as close to me as my breath is to my face.
-------------------------------- Dedicated to the one who is far away with a little taste of Shakespeare.
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Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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4
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UNFINISHED
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Posted:Mar 17, 2006 2:44 pm
Last Updated:May 11, 2006 10:17 pm
2574 Views
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Dry and barren scape. An exploding small sun contesting time. Dusty steps on scorched land, my steps that will not compete. A deep cello sound mixed with hoarse wind: "Oh, you faithful, look at what you have done!" The book has more pages, most are blank. I follow no steps. I leave no traces behind. I keep walking.
Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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2
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OF THE NIGHT
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Posted:Mar 15, 2006 4:13 pm
Last Updated:May 9, 2006 4:06 pm
2524 Views
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Elegant in its simplicity, magnificent in its silence night is pouring in. Music emanating from the quietness, notes in the shape of frame-less volumes, a relief of darkness, a symphony of lightlessness. Sharp like broken glass is darkness to the eye, whipping the stillness, dripping from the eyes into the chest, reaching the fingertips. The would-be sounds vibrate internally, a pulsating life. You, a protrusion of earth likening a ground's wrinkle. You shuffle your steps touching traces of light left on the rocks - a hard, cold touch. Homogeneity inside and outside the skin, fragile as its juices dry out, a flow of soundlessness absorbed by the stone. Heat is retreating and the taste in your mouth is rough, soil-full.
Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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3
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SANTORINI
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Posted:Mar 10, 2006 3:08 pm
Last Updated:May 9, 2006 4:07 pm
2649 Views
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With a set expression of rage on his plaster face - engraved by the chisel of an invincible destiny - his eyes penetrated time through eons of blood-stained marble. Minoan, naked-breasted women emerged from the sea-spray, silent in languages of the North. The black sand was burning like a Saint John's fire. Blue haze on his lips of salt. He stared. The glare of an empty can, reflecting carelessness, made him blink. He spoke: "Take heed the wave; the daffodils will not flourish in Santorini." Who was he? - Inquired the fireflies. The dry wells echoed the prayers of Midas, singing in a cave of brittle rock. In the maze of sounds a green-gray-eyed girl, shadowed by a plastic Minotaur, cried for help and cried in the night. He drank the moon-shadow. - Was he Daedalus? In the vine the dancing angels became a pack of dogs, barking over the same bone; slime on red grapes. - Was he an angel of the final Annunciation? He addressed the white stone: "Thou shall be absent from thy death." The goat-priests slaughtered Eros in the temple of Aphrodite, his green-gray blood smothering the agony of the pine trees. Daedalus surveyed the land, slowly turning his head, in search of mighty-wise Theseus. The fine night breeze was still stirring the silver grace by the shore. An imperceptible spasm wrinkled his face; the first and the last tear. Daedalus flew away in his wings of wax, drifting upon his bitter hopes, to be assimilated by Dawn.
---------------------------------------- This is written for the beautiful island of Santorini and for those extraordinary green-grey eyes that illuminate with they deep emerald the mists of England.
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Copyright 2006 by interested13563
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8
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International Woman's Day
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Posted:Mar 8, 2006 12:24 pm
Last Updated:Mar 15, 2006 8:53 am
2518 Views
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To all women at this site:
HAPPY WOMAN'S DAY!
Of course, there is the old saying "We do not celebrate and we do not accept visitors!" pointing at the continued inequality and lack of social justice for women. But we could try to make meaningful efforts towards this goal. So, ladies, thank you for being!
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