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The moon abides in furious white I pass out in the cold thin air I float towards the light I wake in mourning And death Is not what I fear Pasty as a potato Mashed on a plate My complexion Is is a reflection Of an hour that ran too late Light filtered through water A luminescent corral laden sea I see Nemo I see you You are a tousled part Of sleep's inception The beginning of An adventure like one of Alice where she is As tall as she is small And everything And nothing at all Is impossible ;-) |
Time to reanimate from the cold thin air, wipe the mashed potato from your chin and pick up your pen :)| Posted on 2014-09-18 00:00:00 | by ponykeeper | [ Reply to This ] | Some beautiful things here. | | Posted on 2014-04-22 00:00:00 | by etheror | [ Reply to This ] | We're all mad here... ;) | | Posted on 2014-04-22 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ] | "Yes you'll find your anything right on top when you open your nothing." And although this doesn't perhaps amount to the everything, I of it represents by me of the essence of totality. I think!! | Bruce | Posted on 2014-04-22 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ] | I think being dead is a lot like the end of the poem... as tall as you are small... a lot like Alice in the Rabbit Hole. I hope nothing is impossible... Because I plan to stick around long after I die :) | | Posted on 2014-04-19 00:00:00 | by Runes | [ Reply to This ] | |