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Open Poetry #12
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ATelamon
Member
since 2001-02-06
Posts 328
Purgatory, Last Staircase, Up

0 posted 2001-03-12 01:22 AM


stumbling I reach
but the path is past
in my reverberations in kind
and echoes of interior death

myopic certainly I fall over
again and again and yet
I reach my hand palm first
open to what may be or not

Only to find I have wandered
into nowhere land the isle of
illusions where characters appear
then vanish as your hand reaches toward

and I wonder how have I defiled life
what unforgivable sin have I engaged in
to be led here and there a carrot in my eye
to touch at every end but mist and die again inside


"When all hope has left, and you can no longer find a reason to breathe, you will find yourself already dead, murdered by your own dream."

[This message has been edited by ATelamon (edited 03-12-2001).]

© Copyright 2001 ATelamon - All Rights Reserved
serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

1 posted 2001-03-12 01:29 AM


Funny, I just had this conversation...it's like a test that I somehow keep failing...

Related to this one...but don't be blue.


ATelamon
Member
since 2001-02-06
Posts 328
Purgatory, Last Staircase, Up
2 posted 2001-03-12 01:34 AM


Don't be blue
a difficult request
on these pages hue... so much for humor

but time still tasks me
to ask that one questionof which
I know there will never be an answer

"When all hope has left, and you can no longer find a reason to breathe, you will find yourself already dead, murdered by your own dream."

[This message has been edited by ATelamon (edited 03-12-2001).]

JLR
Senior Member
since 2001-02-04
Posts 1785

3 posted 2001-03-12 03:36 PM


'stumbling i reach
but the path is past'

Well...you know I can relate to this one.

Meadowmuse
Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263

4 posted 2001-03-13 11:27 PM


It seems what leads us can often become our undoing. Poetry is obviously within your grasp, however. (o:

I enjoyed your writing, thanks for it.

Claire

Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?......Henry David Thoreau


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