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Array ( [sid] => 161322 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => cerulean and blue [time] => 2010-07-22 19:57:18 [hometext] => it's rough, but perhaps it's better that way. Always, abraham. [bodytext] => There are no longer any words strong enough to express the rise of my thoughts. No verse, no figure of speech can elicit the sensation of my life as it steadily descends, as if a day descending into the darkness of its own light.

Silent and aurum skies cradle infantile stars in swathes of cerulean and blue, and the distant unfurling of mountains still unravels my soul, still promises the madness of love.

Love cannot touch me.

I have grown old. The roots of my fingers still clench with strength, still dance across the keys with youthful vigor, but in my heart, I am a feeble death, a dried brown blood bleaching the bones of my thought—rising steadily above the strangling vines bled black in the Atlantic—casting monotony and resentment over the world. Only the mountains still touch my soul, cerulean and blue, wings scatter in the distance.

It is best left unchanged.
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 161 [topic] => 48 [informant] => iodinelove [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
cerulean and blue

Contributed by iodinelove on Thursday, 22nd July 2010 @ 07:57:18 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry



There are no longer any words strong enough to express the rise of my thoughts. No verse, no figure of speech can elicit the sensation of my life as it steadily descends, as if a day descending into the darkness of its own light.

Silent and aurum skies cradle infantile stars in swathes of cerulean and blue, and the distant unfurling of mountains still unravels my soul, still promises the madness of love.

Love cannot touch me.

I have grown old. The roots of my fingers still clench with strength, still dance across the keys with youthful vigor, but in my heart, I am a feeble death, a dried brown blood bleaching the bones of my thought—rising steadily above the strangling vines bled black in the Atlantic—casting monotony and resentment over the world. Only the mountains still touch my soul, cerulean and blue, wings scatter in the distance.

It is best left unchanged.




Copyright © iodinelove ... [ 2010-07-22 19:57:18]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: cerulean and blue (User Rating: 1 )
by lovingcritters on Thursday, 22nd July 2010 @ 08:11:43 PM AEST
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Dear Dear Abraham, this is not like you at all!
It hurts my heart to see you all cerulean and blue, and then your fall!
Devastatingly Down, Down, Down,
Your analogy, was dreadful, and your ending was absolutely soulful!
Good job my friend, Good job, Accept your end!
Warm love
consue


Re: cerulean and blue (User Rating: 1 )
by cashfan1 on Friday, 23rd July 2010 @ 06:51:01 AM AEST
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my, this is so sad and yet so powerful,
You really make the words sing out with so much meaning, thanks for posting.


Re: cerulean and blue (User Rating: 1 )
by spud on Friday, 23rd July 2010 @ 12:39:55 PM AEST
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Hi,

The heart that can write with such clarity, sincerity,
candour, and imagery, is devoid of only one
thing .............. Belief! Believing that you're not
alone in the act of self-evaluation and worth -
believing that your words touch more people than
you believe they do.

Tommy




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