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5 months, twelve years.

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  • 5 months, twelve years.

    II.

    I'm so devouringly hungry
    the Kind King with his Wife, beheaded.
    I have to look,
    i have to, even though i hate this.

    i never became Unselfish, but i did believe.
    I gave you a chance, my heart --
    requiem o' quietus, shrubs that stick;
    beach-weeds, and the sun.

    Your face of glass Words me, forget.
    Your lost word of appendendant mockery,
    cruel beneath the Earth,
    a skeleton of my shattered Prideful desire.

    |||.

    Quavering metals, quaff unto quichè
    Like librae, and lambence:
    Hertz to Femtosecond, to Dies Irae.
    Willing changes of my third-most face

    Pointing in all directions at once,
    Glues to you, you to motion
    my mirrory skript. All gone, for fear.
    For nothing. Give me a Reason Not To Lie.

    And then we shall pretend we Do not
    Do this again, and again.
    And we won't fear the Rest,
    and we wont hate ourselves.

    !!!!.

    Became Because Man.
    An end we just began.
    Subconscious idolatry, spite.
    On a dangling chain from
    Your Pocket, I hang, all smiles, today...

  • #2
    Many wonderful phrases here - my favorite? 'Give me a Reason Not To Lie.' Powerful relationship reminiscence.

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    • #3
      yeah, thankya, i agree, and thats about where i am. Catharsis... thankya, i am glad you took the time to read! I included the original, and updated version of my poem Danse Macabre back there, if you would like to see the difference. in any case, yes, our relationship and understanding of where we are and who we really are. im pretty angry today n its helped things along. rather than scream, i write...

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      • RhymeLovingWriter
        RhymeLovingWriter commented
        Editing a comment
        Good plan - one in which you are in very good company here in the zone I think. To better days....

    • #4
      This poem helps me in a different way than it helps you. It helps me to refresh my appetite for the sheer abundance and possibilities of language. This is a wild music, and moving in its multivalent meaningmongery. Mmmmm. Zesta!

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