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Open Poetry #29
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Kaoru
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Member Elite
since 2003-06-07
Posts 3892
where the wild flowers grow

0 posted 2003-10-01 11:37 AM


Make a known road, paved, and glittered with anew
shine.. like a striped river.
We drive closer to our holding arms,
as if no patience is aquired on the way.

And no stops are made.

Make a tree, it grows eloquently, like
the silence your lips utter.
Be rid of love, and be one with it,
for times are hard in winding memory.
Stop the hands, for waiting is a cold
and bitter escape..
And feel not, we prisoners..

Trace your finger down my spine,
where the nerves beckon freedom..
From the overwhelming need of touch,
you and I have this obligation
to live for whatever reason..

I will pass and change along with season,
and I beg you still love me then.
Crawl up on my vine and stay, for I bear fruit,
and I
need you..Not hungry for the embers,
the ash I've trailed behind.

It's a long, long drive..
But we've reached this far by chance,
and furthermore, I'd like to go on..
For I've got fires to burn for miles and years
to come.

And no stops should be made.

This ticking is a wrathful teasing,
we will survive it..
The worn out sand will pass.

So, love,
I will hold you..scrape the dust of time from
your lips and kiss them like
the first time they were kissed.
My bones will murmur in great need for a
song you've sung me once in
a century's time..

Wind, and unwind..We
drive still..and
stillness does drive.


© Copyright 2003 Meghan Armitage - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2003-10-01 11:50 AM



There is a definable ying/yang
approach to this writing, Meghan...

it begs the reader...
stay with me...

QjQ
Member Elite
since 2003-04-18
Posts 3756
U.S.A.
2 posted 2003-10-01 11:51 AM


This ticking is a wrathful teasing,
we will survive it..
The worn out sand will pass.

enjoyed these lines,,

very good write n read,,,

                                                                

Cpat Hair
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Member Patricius
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793

3 posted 2003-10-01 11:55 AM


Make a tree, it grows eloquently, like
the silence your lips utter.
Be rid of love, and be one with it,
for times are hard in winding memory.
Stop the hands, for waiting is a cold
and bitter escape..
And feel not, we prisoners..

Trace your finger down my spine,
where the nerves beckon freedom..
From the overwhelming need of touch,
you and I have this obligation
to live for whatever reason..
you wind these words as if a clock on a crooked road tell you soon the tea party will begin..and the madness that is it all
will be embraced...perhaps with a wiser heart..and certainly with a tender soul..
nicely done, you always impress me...

bsquirrel
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Member Rara Avis
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855

4 posted 2003-10-01 11:58 AM


Eloquent.
passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
5 posted 2003-10-01 12:30 PM


Meg,

you are very deep and passionate...your writings show it well

jasonm
New Member
since 2003-10-01
Posts 8

6 posted 2003-10-02 04:06 AM


'Be rid of love, and be one with it'?!?!

I've been reading poems all day, and this line has stayed with me. Thank you for it, and thank you for the encouraging responses
you've left for me.

You should read 'Justine', by Lawrence Durrell, if you haven't already. I see you in it.

n2dmystic
Member
since 2003-09-27
Posts 253
beyond the doors of perception
7 posted 2003-10-02 04:11 AM


K ~ beautifully written. My fave:
"My bones will murmur in great need for a
song you've sung me once in
a century's time.. "
A joy to be sung to of loves song.  thank you

Peace, Joe
in the big MT
seeking the serendipitous magical mysteries of life's ubiquitous twisteries

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