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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 14:11:32 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 151348
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Red Queen's Puppet
[time] => 2009-07-08 07:06:01
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The subtle pluck of harp a tender touch of guitar string I understand the playful movement the gentle mock of philosophy in the shape of your curvature a façade of concern we sit, here in long golden grass this land is our home danced upon by the blind demon desire; a loaded name touch; the endless temptress and yet, in hand with the Red Queen the stillness of motion nothing is overlooked passion is a wicked fool the doctorate obtainable in the fall here, I finally awaken new born and terribly old a monkey’s breathe ripe and rank in my nostril you dance to the plucked you hope for the lot you never feel a gram silently I fade in the long golden grass mistaken for the fool rightfully picked as the monkey overlooked for the doctorate the only one to pluck the harp tender enough for the guitar string oh, the beastliness of exploration the terror in hope! Such is the world of the dreamer and desire of the undesired richer for the abstinence cleaner for the hurt here, where I now sit alone this land was our home. 8/7/09 [comments] => 3 [counter] => 222 [topic] => 73 [informant] => one-curly-fry [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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