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Open Poetry #35
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Title to be thought above
| Open Poetry #35 |
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Title to be thought above |
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DavePage Member Elite
since 2003-12-21
Posts 2917 |
Life was an idea of someone who would treat you as a lady taking your scaps and thin carcase for a gault into the eyes and the movement and the scent You saw the horizon on a morning comfortable down the hill always jobs hard but you finished and back into the yard fill up and bath in the skullery get the fish off Always people in and people out and mam to sort things out Where are they now Where are those lives that lasted for hundreds of years ON AN INTERNET GATHERING SIRE AND SITE COMPLETE WITH DNA AND ROADMAP COUTESTY OF ZIP AND POST CODES WHERE EVENTUALLY YOUR DNA WILL BE LINKED TO YOUR ADDRESS AND MOVE WITH YOU, and all I thought of was a windswept site where women worked to achieve and men worked to achieve, "as well". |
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Ericc Member Elite
since 2003-01-31
Posts 4178 |
Damn Dave....no one writes like you. Every word like a sublte sledge hammer...reaching somewhere deep. Eric |
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froggy Senior Member
since 2003-06-23
Posts 1893Michigan |
Hi Dave, I like this. Enjoyed the read too. Happy Easter :-) Within this heart you'll find love |
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marcel Senior Member
since 2003-03-02
Posts 660az, usa |
interesting and thought provoking piece. [This message has been edited by marcel (03-27-2005 03:26 PM).] |
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DavePage Member Elite
since 2003-12-21
Posts 2917 |
Ericc Damn Dave....no one writes like you. Every word like a sublte sledge hammer...reaching somewhere deep. Eric I suppose I dont know any better Eric. Thanks Dave froggy Hi Dave, I like this. Enjoyed the read too. Happy Easter :-) Within this heart you'll find love Thanks Froggy - it is always there Take care Dave marcel The Way of Things… How heavy this burden we carry While under the hot and cold glare of sky lit eyes, Searching alone in the forgotten dreams of others For the paths of true rights and honest wrongs; Sometimes I wonder if time knows its relevance, And if so... Could it still be impartial to the whispers of silence? We walk amongst one another as strangers But we all are branded with tattoo tears and blood Only seen when the moon dips And the sun rises to promises--- Promises we will one day embrace and understand; But not before those final three beats, When the heart at last will cease to be. Marcel Marcel - your words are better than I could ever write. Thank you Dave |
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