Open Poetry #29 |
Bacchus' Requiem -- Kaoru and me |
bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
the golden bell swings dolefully on the line. a raindrop-sized clapper, laying in its forged lips. a clock of morning touches the dew of inevitability; soft as eggshells, its slow hands fall to pieces. catching the sun in a wet palm, trembling thunder in a psalm. twitch goes the witch in midspell, we wander the storm of day. she roves soft clay from her face to her hands. the dirt of the dead ...the dust of afterlife.. she tears in the sky, a doorway -- a passage leading down to a wall lined in lockets. a masked magic forlorn and in torn robe, a memory in each ..the witch which holds all keys. oh, fingerlings! bow! your unmaking! unstrung, little synapses fire in the rain. like unborn virgin, crust of gold, embers proceed.. this clock stays cleaned.. |
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angelblueyes Member Elite
since 2003-07-19
Posts 2148Oklahoma |
ALl I can say is wow!!!! Crystal |
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1slick_lady Member Ascendant
since 2000-12-22
Posts 6088standing on a shadow's lace |
silk...this IS raw silk !!! |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
Thanks. It was spur of the moment. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
why is this back here..awesome bumpevous |
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