

HospitalAsk for a world in which the white recedes and colour bleeds back in. You can feel a hand again as it softly strokes your hair - and you know it's your own. Nothing takes you from pain like its own promise. And where is promise?Hospital
Ask for a primrose world, one that means something beautiful but you don't know what it means. You can walk in its colour, softly, all day and that
will do for when the white comes back, thinking of taking you. You can't feel your hand again but you know it will return when
the colour bleeds back in.


The Heat of His DepartureHe didn't suffer much. The agonies of measuring the streets would never have him, but at least he knewThe Heat of His Departure
to count the days by who has not yet died. He meant to map a city with his feet and bring home to her
new pictures of his heart. But she never heard the music of roads and shop lights, she only
knew his feet that beat the pavement dry. She left home without him. He grew tired of walking but failed to stop,
didn't find an edge, didn't fall, but slowly, without a thought to her clouds
suddenly above him, dissolved into tar and


Names Will NeverWrite me a poem, I am too tired to write my own. I have no words for beaten women and men in jail, I have a love of love poemsNames Will Never
- drumming the ground, flying the oceans, sailing - in my mind I have a love of sailing.
Write me a poem, I am too sad to beat the drums you'd hear inside oceans, those drums were for love and this isn't love -
Write me some quiet. Four days and not one silence came my way. There's just the noise of sticks on ground and sticks on bones and I was wishing for rain and song when the rain came - and that


TulipsI'm sorry we're still talking about this. My body and your body and bare bodies abounding - there should beTulips
nuclear physics in our bedrooms instead, the politics of elevators that go to the moon. Oh I am
so tired of tulips and veils. The internet will take me out my windows and doors, the colony gate, into the street and out
where I can know I would have been shot but not be shot, see the carnage, not be the carnage (a bomb rips through the city
killing one-thirty, two bombs rip through the city killing one-thirty) I'm sorry at one-


i will help youknow nowi will help you
to
float forlorn and say all
in all i need is somethin like you.
destitute and destiny, something holy knows this isn't
what her best could be. unsettled, really. nothing in these bastard hands,
too far from your load- i'm becoming
... unsettled by the graces of God.
stand alone, but sister heal your self in our hands with a kind of love far from any lack of breath.
Devious Comments
--
Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.
--
-= eye's say so much but words help me see =-
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
--
my enemy said to me, "love your enemy."
and i obeyed him and loved myself. gibran
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It´s self-assigned penance for problems with easy solutions
-Death Cab For Cutie
Cool gallery ^^
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Every minute that goes by is a minute closer towards old-age, decay and death...
SO STOP READING THIS SIG AND WASTING TIME
I have a poem building for you.
--
I think global warming is...
How deviant are you?
but i will be watching now!
--
I think global warming is...
How deviant are you?
your poem's very touching. Plz allow me to translate some into our Vietnamese someday ^^
luv ^^
your poetry is wonderful, do you know?
--
=DailyDeviants has featured you on September 12th, 2006 for the Writing Gallery.
[ =Timbo1 ] - Journal Admin
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amazing poetry!
--
My Policy on Comments
Poetry and prose is here: ~hearmebaa
Local Community: ~CapeTownCommunity *TRIBE-SA
--
my enemy said to me, "love your enemy."
and i obeyed him and loved myself. gibran
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"Remember the lord in retirement from the people and make prayer thy sleep, hunger thy food."
--
=TheExquisiteCorpse
~ObjetTrouve
~Spiral-Bound
Looking forward to reading more of your poetry.
--
Isn't it interesting that the same people who laugh at science fiction listen to weather forecasts and economists? - Kelvin Throop III
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On stage I make love to twenty-five thousand people; and then I go home alone. - Janis Joplin.
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