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Late Sun, Treeslate sun rides with an eastern wind until it is broken by a hundred thousand hands scattered into blemished green shades, and falls on a bed of brown tangles and impatient shapes that run in busy patterns underneath the diligent parents who have no time for them. someday they'll learn to rise and slow. but right now all the trees in the world couldn't stop their games, that feel like they'll go on, ablaze, forever. trees that stand as tall as wells or walls where once a lover was won or a battle lost. it dosent matter now. all that matters is the lost windLate Sun, Trees
an
by ~smeebob
The Tide's ComingThe bugs whisper of your coming with their legs, As the moon hides— Turning my edge of the world black— I cannot see, but through the pinholes of stars. The trees rustle, Shivering as you pass— Your heat removed. I hear nothing But nature rebelling against you. But then all goes silent— The sea stalls, The crickets feel your vibrations— Stopping them dead. The trees hover in stasis, Wishing they could uproot— Travel somewhere You can’t touch. I welcome your chill— My bones make music enoughThe Tide's Coming
by ~schriftsteller
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- 72 Daily Lit Deviations for June 22, 2009 - Jun 21, 2009
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: east coast
- Interests: nostalgia, collecting memories, etc. etc.
- Favourite poet or writer: brautigan and vonnegut
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kindness is still hip.
YOU ARE THE BEST POET IN THE WORLD
we shook up the wooorrlld
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it seems only yesterday i used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
if you cut me i would shine.
but now when i fall upon the sidewalks of life,
i skin my knees. i bleed.
-billy collins
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it is always ourselves we find in the sea.--
If you understood poetry and magic, you'd understand it doesn't matter. (Tom Robbins)
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when one candle is used to light another, the new flame is not the same as the old flame, and yet the first flame directly causes the second.
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we will fold and freeze together far away from here.Previous Page1234Next Page