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Dark Poetry #2
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Walter Poe
Senior Member
since 1999-10-13
Posts 787


0 posted 2000-07-04 07:08 AM



It was the night a world apart
And the darkness did not conceal
the brightness of a lovers heart

It was a Place lost on the wind
In the space between breaths
Where all is known in the brief eternity

All alone the nightingale sings
Silent as the falling tree
In the emptiest of the forests

All around the space the mind
A spiral returns to itself
In a game set apart from the mass

All the longing felt as a weight
All the heat burning up inside
What is the place we call home

Feel the touch of beauty
Taste the bitterness of truth
Hold the girl in your dreams

Can the whole exceed the dream
Of the past as we have seen
And the hold we cannot feel

And we are the people
Who stand in the light
And withstand the wrath of the gods

Fools and angels hold hands
Over the fire and sinking sands
All the love and all the lands

The eyes see what the mind covets
Space refracts in the minds corruption
And the mice are silent in the night

Vanguard of the New Movement

Behind his polished cedar desk,
surrounded by his phones,
Sits Blazer Dyke(The yachting type),
The vanguard of the clones.
The Archetype,
The number one,The vanguard of the clones.

Crossing over busy street,
where noisy traffic drones,
Walks Blazer Dyke (without a bike),
The vanguard of the clones.
The autocrat,
The ectomorph,
The vanguard of the clones.

He strides across the cobbled yard,
Where pawn shops offer loans,
That Blazer Dyke (Whom i dislike),
The vanguard of the clones.
The cannibal,
The parasite,
The vanguard of the clones.

He passes through the wicket gate,
To churhyards full of bones,
That Blazer Dyke (on a midnight hike),
The vanguard of the clones.
The necrophile,
The narcissist,
The coprophage,
The sybarite,
The telepath,
The Anti-Christ,
The vanguard of the clones.

Robert Rankin
(The Dance of the Voodoo Handbag)

© Copyright 2000 Paul Weatherstone - All Rights Reserved
Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

1 posted 2000-07-04 09:14 AM


It was the night a world apart
And the darkness did not conceal
the brightness of a lovers heart

It was a Place lost on the wind
In the space between breaths
Where all is known in the brief eternity
---------------
All the longing felt as a weight
All the heat burning up inside
What is the place we call home

Feel the touch of beauty
Taste the bitterness of truth
Hold the girl in your dreams
--------------
Fools and angels hold hands
Over the fire and sinking sands
All the love and all the lands

The eyes see what the mind covets
Space refracts in the minds corruption
And the mice are silent in the night
-------------------

fate's moment in time ...
the moment of truth ...
the truth of the matter ...
the heart of the matter.

sounds like you found all these things...
beautiful poem of reflection and light walter
perfect imagery
another one of my favs of yours now...  
take care gentle poet
jm


What the caterpillar calls the end ...
The world calls a butterfly
~LaoTzeTao~
~Butterflies are meant to be free~


Jeremiah Johnson
Senior Member
since 2000-06-08
Posts 1223
Brooksville, Fl, U.S
2 posted 2000-07-04 07:46 PM


i enjoyed this one of yours alot though i have not read alot of your work i now plan to read more your a great writer and i hope to see more real soon.

I'm a dying romantic and when i can no longer write i can no longer live -Jeremiah Johnson-


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