LavenderMenace Posted November 30 Report Share Posted November 30 I can't get that sound you make out of my head I can't even figure out what's making it no one else around even seems to be noticing it's only small enough for me I can't get that sound you make out of my head I can't even figure out what's making it it feels like fingernails across the moon or do you rub your wings together there's a mean bone in my body it's connected to the problems that I won't take for an answerand I won't take that from you because I'd hurt a fly let you go to sleep feeling bad as me let you go to sleep feeling bad there's a mean bone in my bodyit's connected to the problems that I won't take for an answer and I won't take that from you because I'd hurt a fly-BtS__________________________________________________Now thas some deep shit right there.... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
LavenderMenace Posted November 30 Author Report Share Posted November 30 and one more just cause I'm feelin it today....You Were Right You were wrong when you said Everything's gonna be alright You were right when you said All that glitters isn't gold You were right when you said All we are is dust in the wind You were right when you said We are all just bricks in the wall And when you said manic depression's a frustrating mess You were right when you said You can't always get what you want You were right when you said It's a hard rain's gonna fall You were right when you said We're still running against the wind And life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone You were right when you said This is the end Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pkern Posted November 30 Report Share Posted November 30 Moody and amorphous, verging, still- In silent states of ebbing, I progress.In early hours, silent, unexplored,I rush in with the tide an admitted luminary daughteraware of what pulls her,rising to greet it.Waxing, waning, free. The deep sea swellswith pregnant motion and retreats,revealing life along a darkened shoreline.The moon is arched, so liquid in her reach,slipping towards her fullness, purring in its wake.And as I curl, complete within my globe,yet slim tonight, an arching lighted slipof flesh and thought,I breathe her in, an image of myself,who knows her seasons to be ordered well. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
gothzane Posted November 30 Report Share Posted November 30 Poetry on the run...Poetry on the runDodging the bullets of lifes gunHave to tear it upMess it upMakes you frownThe words were once pureBut look what life has doneHave to grind it upFuck it upMess aroundThe song once had meaningLife beat that one to death tooMakes you break it upPuke it upChoke it down Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
kjlive Posted December 1 Report Share Posted December 1 Your hand pushes me awayso that I float into the night,then swing back, back from the nebulaeto our drifting conversation.Among the race of star demonswhat I saw out there--golden chains, the spindle, sirenschanting the music of the spheres--blurs and streaks across star-flungdistances the chain-link fencescan't fence out. Betweenyour hand and the hammock'sslow rocking the Voidexpands, twisting threadstautening, slackening, stretchedalmost to breaking:Do you feel that wobbleof earth's axis, spacewhirling past the ice-capped pole?The pines like judges stare down at us:What should we recant, here,tonight, as if we'd only just begun:Off-center already, losingequilibrium? The world-soul movingthrough the strung-out stars movesin threads that creak and moan,breathes between your mouth and mine.Pushing me away, you bringme home, your attraction drawingdown the alchemical sign:Love draws the soulthe way a magnet draws iron.-Tom Sleigh "The Hammock" Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
weyes Posted December 1 Report Share Posted December 1 Originally posted by lavendermenace -BtS"BTS" as in the gang that beats up ravers? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
thehacker Posted December 3 Report Share Posted December 3 "humble"the distance betweenyour mind andyour soulis not at all equalto the expansewithin your own doubtdoubt about yourselfdoubt about your futureyour ability toshape itand your will tofacethat which you cannotchange or arrangeit is alwaysbringingyoudownbutyou must not tryto pretendto possess thetiniest measureof controlallow yourselfto become overcome with adesireto acceptletthisbe- krisjanis p. gale- august 7, 1998 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
LavenderMenace Posted December 3 Author Report Share Posted December 3 Originally posted by weyes "BTS" as in the gang that beats up ravers? ummmm, no. as in built to spill Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
weyes Posted December 3 Report Share Posted December 3 Originally posted by lavendermenace ummmm, no. as in built to spill - phew; you scared me. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mugwump Posted December 3 Report Share Posted December 3 I like green eggs and ham..I like em'Mugz I am...(The extend of my joy forverbal sympathy in music..) Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
loch Posted December 3 Report Share Posted December 3 In secret we met: In silence I grieve That [you] could forget, [Your] spirit deceive. If I should meet [you] After long years, How should I greet [you]?— With silence and tears. -Lord Byron, from "When We Two Parted" Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
thehacker Posted December 3 Report Share Posted December 3 Nature's first green is goldHer hardest hue to hold.Her early leaf's a flower;But only so an hour.Then leaf subsides to leaf.So Eden sank to grief,So dawn goes down to day.Nothing gold can stay. ... robert frost Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pkern Posted December 3 Report Share Posted December 3 somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyondany experience, your eyes have their silence:in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,or which i cannot touch because they are too nearyour slightest look will easily unclose methough i have closed myself as fingers,you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first roseor if your wish be to close me, i andmy life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,as when the heart of this flower imaginesthe snow carefully everywhere descending;nothing which we are to perceive in this world equalsthe power of {this} intense fragility: whose texturecompels me with the color of its countries,rendering death and forever with each breathing(i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens; only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)nobody, not even the rain, has such small handse.e. cummings Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
thehacker Posted December 3 Report Share Posted December 3 wow.and that's why e.e. is one my favorites.so obtuse and concrete (all at the same time.) Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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