Open Poetry #25 |
Define |
Jaime
Registered
MemberPosts 250 |
I think I’m lost in my impressions, My bags are filled with bricks and I sink with a quickness you can’t save with a stick So I scribble out my name, to make you think this is sane That I’m sane, blue crayon saved our game And for you, I do, lose my right to move, undone by a son so that he could come and this is my career, your grips define A girl lost in his zipper, Too bad you completely missed her – tripped right passed but greet her, the new Miss Harley Dickenson Do words make it any easier? Thousands of Adams walking by the sand, all carrying sticks in their grabby little hands the faeries creep into my hair at night leaving it in terrible knots |
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© Copyright 2003 Jaime - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
this one will require an additional read... just wanted you to know I am pondering the intent and meanings |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Jaime.. I really enjoyed this, loved the jaggedness feel to it getting a different meaning each time I read or as I was reading. Maree |
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