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Array
(
[sid] => 166052
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Thoughts on the west and the Red River
[time] => 2011-04-27 09:09:55
[hometext] => This is my first ever poem (I hope it can be called that). Please comment I would very much like some feedback from learned readers :)
[bodytext] => Vastly empty, not longing, neither wanting or needing. Vastly empty, but somehow full of creatures who make the sound of scuttling and screeching. And those who crawl and slither upon the darkened, scorched earth make no sound....to their victims, STRIKE! hiss. The sun baked earth swallows whole, through cracks wide as the Ohio river, those who stray too far from warm homes and civilization's moans. Where time is measured by the howl of the wolf or the screech of the eagle....here time is old. Old as the cholla and tumbleweeds that decorate this vast expanse. Here forgotten ghosts wander freely like the vultures, who before, picked the meat clean from their bones when they were human. Death for them was quick, forever they wander. To sit, to eat, to drink, TO BREATH! the day here is life itself. Toil and strife, the opiates, the shackles of another life lived, they all get blown away in the wind and sand and passed to rest on the Red River, the mighty Colorado. Like a drill it bore through the big canyon. It is beauty incarnate. These are but thoughts. I still have my life to live, though I pray God that I end it here. Peace lives here, solitary, serene, life itself. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 164 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Natkingcole [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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