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time travel (continued)
time heals, remember?
burying despair: death.
grandfather time, immortal?
silver-tinged twilight owls
with the help of lofty, fresh leaves
so too, do the summer's evening
winds whistle around
the empty park bench passing
through the p
Owl and CrowYour fingertips stuck to my forehead, and popped off when you pulled them back. We were both wearing black that day, mourning our own deaths. (Those little deaths that happen again and again.) Kisses planted grow rainbow flowers at twilight. We were waiting for twilight, that day. I pushed your fingers back into place on your hands, kissing the tips of each one. You cat-purred, I bird-screamed. Twilight rolled in like a fog, smooth and beautiful, the way it does sometimes in autumn. We didn't need anything more.
stargazersShe lives in a river of stars, intricately weaved into the eyes of Eden
the way his roses find beauty in her bramble-berry eyes
watching the sun sink into the ocean
waiting for the night sky
I will always remember him, eyes dancing, hiding her broken heart
Rainwater, hurricanes of lonely gray spilling onto the cloudy sidewalk. The stars are gone tonight.
Gray MasqueradeStriding through this gray, empty world,
I peer upon the hard faces of my peers.
False laughter rings in my ears,
Strained smiles depict something's amiss.
They all fit in,
Just a bit too much.
Robotic and stiff,
They are unidentifiable.
Caught up in the crowd and judgment,
They have lost their identity and their pride,
And their emotions are as flat and cold as those disguises they sport.
The world has come to this.
Even they don't know who they are any longer,
Is like a masquerade ball.
I would rather die
Than live a lie.
keepsakein old boxes we keep
next to spider web walls and heirloom
small pieces of ourselves
hoarded like weapons from the
the shrapnel of unsettled palavers
for the right time on the wrong day
the right day but the wrong time
to echo sharp olloquies
thought erased with the analgesic
ebbing of time
salvaged from boxes
and back to the surface
like sickness in gingerale dreams
living misslethis was once the center of things
a garrison of mustard seed and sedulous
but now summarily surrendered
to the direction of those bred to push buttons
like Theseus throwing
himself to the Aegean
half dissolved and resolved
to be a better reagent
currently disclosable informationthey're naked ships on the horizon
smuggling the tender metal-armed children
who will untie our knots and
tend to our fields
raised on impunative
alchemy and indignant occamy
there is quite a strange
thing doing quite strange things
somewhere entrained by the eyes paregoric
a spate of pro-
and there are some beasts
you can't catch with tackle and bait
ones you must lure
with more orwellian versions of the truth
and those are the ones to keep
locked in small skeleton closets
to smother with pillows and bury
in the basement on christmas eve
in vitro meatsloth;
sill diffusing the bombs
the crime sorcier of hyper-
this air is so dirty
the sophists are sweating
while eating their supper, while
scratching their slogans
'to the spine of our eyes
and the future assured
on the whim of synthetics
we were proclaimed as the founders of feasts
not the same decaudate dogs
bred by the public domain
cool as the absolute/value of absolute zero
in the wheelhouse of liquid
our compared notes on entropy
and all of the above
and the dark heart instilled
around itself builds
an army of somnabulist clones
brontosaurusthe slow strobe of thunder
everyone is fostering some Fabian ideas
the rabbits on the run
the fingernails dirtied
even uncle traveling Matt and his silly
creatures of outer space
so craft your own consequence
and wash it down with black milk
by the garbage pile you keep at the edge of your garden
while the drawbridge holds
your doppelganger and its pavonine
pasquinades at bay
scandalous strokes to the slow strobe of thunder
the disorder of operationsa jaundiced account
we pledged our allegiance to carbon
rods and reactors
quicksilver gizmos adorning our mantles
and the secrets we've found
in ancestral owl pellets
unearthed by the same
that tighten the tactical belt
You Took Something From MeI used to remember what was hidden in the moon
The light of a billion beautiful rays still shading in the looms
Now a broken soul, an apparatus to destruction, a tool
A word, a phrase, a paragraph or two
A day doesn't pass without me waking up in pain
To see your repugnant fucking face over me again
The terrors never cease and sometimes I desire
To be deceased, to baptise myself in fire
To leave this earth because my sanctity was violated
And I was young, how could you use this in advantage?
I can't even manage to describe my hate
You pushed the envelope, and I thought I was to blame
But it isn't that way now that I've realized
That I lied to
HumanI don't want to go outside.
It just don't
I hate explaining myself
I hate reality sometimes
I hate being alone
I hate having people around me
I'm sometimes a hypocrite
I'm sometimes a liar
I'm sometimes a procrastinator
I'm sometimes too bunt
I sometimes can't catch a clue
I sometimes don't understand
I sometimes get jealous
I sometimes get scared
I sometimes remember him
and want to slam my head on the counter
to erase what I thought was fatherly love
I'm scared of lots of things
I'm scared of bumps in the night
I'm scared of being touched
I'm scared of upsetting friends
I'm scared of being insensitive
I'm scared of people dying
PossessedThe wind moves the clouds, and the wind moves me
I follow the clouds to the saw grass by the sea
But they beckon further on, to me
To join them in migration as ships the waves can't reach.
A Lingering Of Forbidden ScentsI took the south road down to Notre Dame
Waited for you note in hand;
Underneath the stained glass windows
Set alight in their own reflections of the sun
We have met this way a thousand times before
Always by the end one of us has come undone.
Anonymous as ever, I whistle from amidst the leaves
Waiting for you to pass under our once beloved tree
To give you one last golden apple
In memory of the hunting of Eve.
White BranchThere we stood crackling
Upon rib cages of deer
That have succumbed in their own time
To the earth and its needs
Their bones showing white beneath the leaves
Reminding me that dawn is not far off.
I have been waiting all night for the rain to come
Barreling down from the north riding the wind
An organic freight train of
Thrashing hail and heaving fog
But the moon has remained bold and bright
Ever vigilant in the December sky.
The RitualDays seem to last years now
They gather around my feet like tide pools
I step from one to another lightly
The distance no more than a fraction of space.
Heavy lays this crown upon my head;
In words that you cannot understand
The age old circlet tells you there is no meditation
Deep enough to ignore its insistent calling.
Dear one, are you listening?
Has the echo crossed the lines of time itself
Into a yesterday where you dreamt of a moment like this?
I would give anything to pull you close;
A magnetic attraction you cannot resist turns your head
At exactly the right time, and you let out a helpless laugh.
You're just as much a slave as I to
ReluctanceCrawl along the walls of my sleep
Turn me over into the deep;
Pillow stranded on a sea of sheets
Skin and quilt collide where air and body meet.
I am restless, and uncertain
Of the future laid before me;
A beckoning face, a word out of place
Reveals each of the hidden paths.
Too many ways to go
I give up and find my way home;
Locking all of the windows and all of the doors
As far as the world is concerned
I don't live there anymore.
InterrogationStare me in the eye, and tell me what to say
Give me some advice, then quickly glance away;
I'm lost here in the wilderness, picking at the grass
Watching the horizon as the clouds amble past.
I see you in my nightmares, I see you in my dreams
Woven webs of spider grass and baby thrushes feeble wings
Created to catch my attention, the desperate thrash of living things;
The added anticipation of working like a charm
Overshadows your instinct to avoid causing any harm.
E Motion DismissedA dreaming haze
These dancing days around my head.
Peals of laughter
Mine full of delight
Yours filled only with fear
That cold bark of humor
Knowing the final hour is near.
I lead you deeper as the hours pass us by
Far past the darkening tree line
Your hand trapped firmly
In the steady grip of mine.
Rarely do I feel adrenaline
In such a rush as this
Barely, this emotion peaks
In volcanic joy about my head.
One swift turn has swept you off your feet,
Dragging through the mossy underbrush
Your crooked form reminiscent of a time long ago
Bracken catches in your clothes;
I remember late night phone calls
A music box wound underwater
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More