|
|
Post by dawness on Sept 13, 2006 11:12:48 GMT -6
it is your bleak winter that
stabs the moonlit sky a thousand times over
and bleed the ink dry
upon which spring rests
to shake the blooms waking from
their rest
and there
your shadow appears as
a phantom knows no regrets for
all the angst
bellowing out the stomach of fields
longing to touch
just one drop of sunlight
in your palm.
for that one shining streak
you are already beautiful
|
|
|
|
Post by liquidpromise on Sept 13, 2006 12:23:28 GMT -6
I don't believe neither of us looks at love as the actual equation of odds, either in favor or the opposite, but if we look the odds in the face, so to speak, we find a love more powerful and conflicting as in way of immense beauty, life and love becomes worthy of those odds.
I wonder if that makes sense.
This is a wonderful write about the path's each of us can choose, where you chose beauty.
L_P
|
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Sept 13, 2006 21:01:25 GMT -6
Awesome poeming, Dawn. Got more? LOL Can't stop repeating that redundant phrase... It's just so fun to type...Like the word gigglegiggle... And what you said, for what it's worth, so made sense to me, Lauren... Slipping round the everchanging, ever beautiful cypherical vistas of the 'Seasons... Checking out poeming and paying homage to the washer and dryer gods at the end of the hall...Speaking of which, ladies...Tis time, to feed the washer god, and empty the temple of the dryer god...LOL...aka simply doing the routine amount of laundry...Hope to make it back for some more reading...The lint monster might get me... Sheesh, Hallowe'en on my mind and it's not even October, yet...Nir.  |
|
|
|
Post by dawness on Sept 19, 2006 2:42:11 GMT -6
hi laurs and sabs---- the paradox of life... i wonder why i'm so into it.  |
|
