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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 00:10:05 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 129835
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Left From Right
[time] => 2006-12-27 03:32:06
[hometext] => My burning thoughts wrapped succintly for you.
[bodytext] => Beneath the quarter-mine I heard another speak the favor of a mass production Unnecessarily placed upon the magic of a corner. You need not heed the advice of your elders when they seem to only listen to The sound of the footsteps approaching the doorway, approaching not freedom but fear, Fear of the lost and fear of the found, each lounging in the mind of those who Have a knack for words long forgotten and laid to waste. While I cannot promise you the world, I can promise you mine. The manifestation of your world will require such intellect And I am sorry to say that none possess the ability to fulfill your expectations of life, But I swear to your god that you will never go hungry. And likewise across the pond fare well those who elicit knowledge taught by children Meant for more but given less than they will ever deserve. Fare well those with the keen sense of smell, our most influential quality, its hard To exert the energy you do not maintain, do not entertain. Your memory of the subject relies upon subjectivity, and this is most problematic, For how are you supposed to invent the meaning of life if you have been stripped Of your suffering, stripped of your experience that will lead you to a will Meant only for the individual, while the rest of the world is caught up in the world. And I sure as hell will not introduce you to a life misrepresented by far more Books than I am willing to read. Why? I can’t promise you originality, And in the end isn’t that all we desire? Maybe not a base difference but most certainly A freedom from constraint and a freedom from the idea that there are no ideas left. Post-modernism, beyond knowing, is this really our future? Do we give up on our Creativity that easily? The most depressing thought revolves around the stagnation We nearly praise with a sense of susceptibility and a sense of forfeit. We have forfeited our rights. We have forfeited our obligation. How are we Supposed to ensure our quality when, hell, we don’t even know left from right. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 220 [topic] => 73 [informant] => Benny14 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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