Open Poetry #35 |
passed on purpose |
Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast |
when indigo is a sky place with strong legs of soft marble the trees are dark angels speaking their wind I listen in my boy skin to the lovely vulgar of their suggestions then I realize they are one and always have been and that the man of me outgrew the overalls of my innocent a year ago before the dreams that introduced me to something down under my imagination where the dark water waits for a stranger to drink and for an angel to speak of her passed lovers _____________ dark (scribblenote: passed on purpose) |
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inkedgoddess Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-19
Posts 7392Ohio |
boys get boring after they blow in and out of town, lend me your man a while, and let my indigo wrap you in deep purple |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
writing hugs to you while chills grow up my arms.... tremendous write...and Good morning Happy 4th hun... |
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Susan Member Ascendant
since 2004-03-27
Posts 5104walking the surreal |
interesting read d- a bit of melancholy here? i hope the boy of you is always there, the laughter and the silly - keeping that man of you smiling - have a great weekend - S If I wander far enough, long enough, will I finally know . . . |
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Gentle Spirit Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989 |
O wow D, this moved me. Waiting for an angel to speak... there is just something so beautifully sad in that, but sooo lovely. I dunno...maybe it's just me this morning, but I really love this. Have a safe and happy holiday. |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Very touching, DS. |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
I kind of just absorbed this - it is mesmerizing to me. Alison |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
I just "accidentally" came across this masterpiece of yours, dear D.! You are so missed here! This is of more than ten years ago, a decade ... and the poem is as uniquely powerful as if it had been written now and it will survive us all. Love, Margherita |
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