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Array
(
[sid] => 122516
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Creampie
[time] => 2006-06-29 18:03:46
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => We are all just artifacts of each others existence All just fixtures implanted for the sake of permanence I’ve been here a million times before This time it all looks so different I know something is missing Someone I should be holding Loving and kissing When it blows from under, and lifts The skirt above the point of- No return, where all is reincarnated Inside the pink throne Incinerated with the burning dome A halo of foam Rises above the crown The jewel sits on its own Flat surfaces layer a once creator plagued shell From distant explosions the desert mountain rose, The ocean tide froze, and the humpbacked whale squealed “I Cant feel my toes”, aside from him no one knows, how life was like, and is, when you get old, So many stories never told, With secret compartments hidden in the folds Rediscovered, is the treasure, the gold, And the silver captured- From the grasp of an empire’s hold, Expired rope, retired folk, threads implode No longer soiled and it begins to corrode So much forgiveness left to record, left in the hole, Marked with a pole, which extends to the pits of the earth As the globe continues to roll Restlessness builds as accomplishments fade Further and further Away From the realities which inhibit intrinsic wanting The waiting drove me mad, and near, then far, Approached then went, it remains stagnant With accumulating age came stability in rage, Comes the future in stealthy decay Sections cut into smaller and smaller bits Of what once was and what once is A complete picture of us Within the dust Are the particles hidden From the encroaching rust, and over a span of a month, The rising balloon busts And sinks Overwhelmed by the pressures exerted By both sides of the wet walls A slab of meat, a rationing of concrete Solidifies the tightening of the straps The pull forces the weight, placed On shoulder-blades, bending the waist, So that the head is faced towards the buckling kneecaps, The view is a secondary relapse, a mishap, Misshapen mismatch, of colors sent out through dispatch, Reattach and rehash, and all the dreams are gone with a snap Private, not for public viewing, The X-rated version is ensuing The unrelinquishing punches to the eye are bruising Left to rot, the creampie is oozing And when you say goodbye It is I- Who is doing all the loosing ____________ ______ [comments] => 3 [counter] => 478 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Jyssvw22 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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