Benevolence,
goes stark naked,
in cruel times.
Her greatness,
sustains,
our smallness.
Elasticity,
destined to,
perfect snap.
Imprints,
every minute,
no looking back.
Imprints
- hester_prynne
- Posts: 2363
- Joined: June 26th, 2006, 12:35 am
- Location: Seattle, Washington
- Contact:
Imprints
"I am a victim of society, and, an entertainer"........DW
- hester_prynne
- Posts: 2363
- Joined: June 26th, 2006, 12:35 am
- Location: Seattle, Washington
- Contact:
More imprints
Sex, no,
yes please,
but no,
then, then,
now gone.
"Nevermore"
quothes raven
androgenous,
from fence,
in monotones.
Moonlit stage,
ratty velvet curtain,
act 53,
lumpy bed,
crackers on the floor.
Dreamer spirit,
stirs eternal
when no one looking.
I see cherry blossoms,
winter straight ahead.
yes please,
but no,
then, then,
now gone.
"Nevermore"
quothes raven
androgenous,
from fence,
in monotones.
Moonlit stage,
ratty velvet curtain,
act 53,
lumpy bed,
crackers on the floor.
Dreamer spirit,
stirs eternal
when no one looking.
I see cherry blossoms,
winter straight ahead.
"I am a victim of society, and, an entertainer"........DW
- Zlatko Waterman
- Posts: 1631
- Joined: August 19th, 2004, 8:30 am
- Location: Los Angeles, CA USA
- Contact:
All three of these pieces are well made and quite moving.
I am put in mind of "Juan's Song", by one of my favorite poets, Louise Bogan:
(paste)
Juan's Song
When beauty breaks and falls asunder
I feel no grief for it, but wonder.
When love, like a frail shell, lies broken,
I keep no chip of it for token.
I never had a man for friend
Who did not know that love must end.
I never had a girl for lover
Who could discern when love was over.
What the wise doubt, the fool believes--
Who is it, then, that love deceives?
Louise Bogan
I am put in mind of "Juan's Song", by one of my favorite poets, Louise Bogan:
(paste)
Juan's Song
When beauty breaks and falls asunder
I feel no grief for it, but wonder.
When love, like a frail shell, lies broken,
I keep no chip of it for token.
I never had a man for friend
Who did not know that love must end.
I never had a girl for lover
Who could discern when love was over.
What the wise doubt, the fool believes--
Who is it, then, that love deceives?
Louise Bogan
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