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PerksOfAWallflower

poetry anyone???

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Here is one of mine. Recently Published in Anthology, my Uni's publication.

her

her lips

so sweet, tempting me

her touch

so soft, caressing me

her eyes

like pools, drowning me

her embrace

like death, draining me.

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quote:
Originally posted by Alchy:

her

her lips

so sweet, tempting me

her touch

so soft, caressing me

her eyes

like pools, drowning me

her embrace

like death, draining me.

It is lovely. Quite simple, but still profound Smiler

I leave here a few lines of a poem I wrote some dawns ago Big Grin while listening to Regina and the Calamaro brothers:

A RETURN TO LONELINESS

Men only wish

A non-approximative demography

A summer of grass and water

Like the music composed

On the terraced stadiums of the repentant muses,

Innocent, clean of names and prides,

Fall in our already tired ears

The verses of the wind

Who is lord of the cathedrals and of that magic walk we never shared

One day I will know the taste of the vines of the true delight

In the Kingdom of Autumn

I hope you like it

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a ditty about relationships, possibly an attempt to translate it over to music form from me? or anybody, but who would want it -_-''

The flicker of flame,

So hot and tempting, who was i to blame?

I took her hand and held her through the night,

Not wanting more than that, just wanting us not to fight,

But the gasoline rain,

Left us for dead, in our coffins we were lain,

Bittersweet departure, a life spent in vain,

Yet time still moved on, and through each death you are born,

Unto another hand of cards you are sworn,

I still feel her scorn,

I told her i would wait forever, a promise so forlorn,

hope you enjoyed Smiler

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quote:
Originally posted by Fickenrabe:

quote:
Originally posted by Alchy:

her

her lips

so sweet, tempting me

her touch

so soft, caressing me

her eyes

like pools, drowning me

her embrace

like death, draining me.

It is lovely. Quite simple, but still profound Smiler

I leave here a few lines of a poem I wrote some dawns ago Big Grin while listening to Regina and the Calamaro brothers:

A RETURN TO LONELINESS

Men only wish

A non-approximative demography

A summer of grass and water

Like the music composed

On the terraced stadiums of the repentant muses,

Innocent, clean of names and prides,

Fall in our already tired ears

The verses of the wind

Who is lord of the cathedrals and of that magic walk we never shared

One day I will know the taste of the vines of the true delight

In the Kingdom of Autumn

I hope you like it

Thank you. Yours is great, sets my imagination lose.

@Wonder Bread:

Very nice ^_^

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Elle Qui:

She was a terror.

Everything in her eyes and dress said so, but the way her heels barely touched the ground as she walked confirmed it. Like a sorceress unphased by a bed of hot coals.

She was harsh on her men and harsher on her women. They were all too vulnerable. But who isn't when compared to her with lips of a pagan and hips of the same. Like a princess ho didn't hide but would lick her lips and bat her eyes.

She was a little too much to handle for everyone standing that night. She made no effort to catch the fallen or mend the broken. She reveled in her destruction like Satan on heroin.

She was never shy. Her hands would mark the chins of her minions with the smell of sin and a faintly faded cigs. And her skirt dipped just low enough to reveal her tattoo of a rose covered cross. Like a priest who shares his nights with concubines.

She was real and a dream. You could never find another that stole your lover quite as graceful. And you forgave her. Like a being that resented its maker.

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In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,

I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,

Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,

To please the desert and the sluggish brook.

The purple petals, fallen in the pool,

Made the black water with their beauty gay;

Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,

And court the flower that cheapens his array.

Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why

This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,

Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing,

Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:

Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!

I never thought to ask, I never knew:

But, in my simple ignorance, suppose

The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.

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