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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: the edge of wetnessdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: blackbird
    ASL Info:    31/male/reykjavik iceland
    Elite Ratio:    2.35 - 194/328/300
    Words: 270
    Class/Type: Prose/Misc
    Total Views: 683
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1827



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dots the edge of wetnessdots
    -------------------------------------------


    dear friends all: the snowflakes
    of armageddon are us.
    it's a blue movie
    dripping baffled
    & disconnected like the tomb
    of christ.
    and as with any twilight
    blasted with milk,
    we held it just enough
    to hold it.
    until the clockwork jewels
    broke off.
    then it was anyone's
    trial with judas.

    life moves on,
    sometimes without us
    take green for instance,
    my equally naked heart,
    full of risks and no speech.
    i always want to know
    where the trouble can come from,
    the gloom inherent
    in spiny truths.
    it was nothing i had to do,
    the door was secretly open.

    the juice knife has its cut arm
    and the eventual sex of its death.
    so too how we have loved,
    slaved on this tendency
    toward forever.
    from both ends i practice
    looking out through the top
    of my head.
    the aperture of a felt hat
    makes pictures of your moods,
    hair hung black to the floor
    unfolds into roads
    swollen or sad
    with the amnesia of being.
    i picnic my hammock of heaven
    in the garden sun
    praising avocados & chickens.
    i am too tired for sleep
    and the wet funerals
    that rake mud over our heads
    and soup our bones into a cold roux.
    i am more blue than violet.
    a little weather that traces the bodies
    of water I would sail over.
    if I tripped from new orleans
    to the atlantic ocean,
    brief hands form the mouth & face
    and drag the moon
    by its feet
    beyond any miracle of lies.
    when all the lights go out in cities,
    this funeral is from the eyes down.




    Submitted on 2007-04-29 12:11:51     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Regardless of the pain and misery the wetness might bring, that wetness keeps your stream of consciousness going. It might be me and my lack of sleep, but the thoughts seem broken; however, they come together in such an abstract and gripping form that makes my mind sway and give a second thought to the flood cascading from the sky, threatening to wash away those who refuse to move.
    I like this.

    -Nearby Thoughts.
    | Posted on 2007-05-11 00:00:00 | by Nearby Thoughts | [ Reply to This ]
      the rain of humanity is bringing us to our knees and we drown in the edge of wetness. wetness the best played on words to bend and warp our minds like the brutal self destruction of our souls. you have the pain to move.


    be well

    Shadow
    | Posted on 2007-04-30 00:00:00 | by in shadow | [ Reply to This ]


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