Poll: hoe hoe hoe
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View poll results: hoe hoe hoe
red
6 67%
green
6 67%
blue
5 56%
gold
0 0%
Voters: 9.
#1
Austin

she left without leaving a number,
said she needed to clear her mind.
he figured she'd gone back to Austin
'cause she talked about it all the time.
it was almost a year
before she called him up,
three rings and answering machine
is what she got:

"if you're calling about the car, I sold it.
if this is Tuesday night, I'm bowling.
if you've got something to sell,
you're wasting your time, I'm not buying.
if it's anybody else, wait for the tone
you know what to do.
P.S., if this is Austin, I still love you."

the telephone fell to the counter,
she heard but she couldn't believe.
what kind of man would hang on that long
what kind of love that must be.
she waited three days
and then she tried again.
she didn't know what she'd say
but she heard three rings, and then:

"if it's Friday night I'm at the ballgame
and first thing Saturday, if it don't rain,
I'm heading out to the lake,
and I'll be gone all weekend long.
but I'll call you back when I get home
on Sunday afternoon.
P.S., if this is Austin, I still love you."

this time she left her number,
but not another word.
she waited by the phone
and on Sunday evening,
this is what he heard:

"if you're calling about my heart,
it's still yours.
I should've listened to it a little more,
then it wouldn't have taken me so long
to know where I belong.
and by the way, boy,
this is no machine you're talking to.
can't you tell? this is Austin,
and I still love you."


just a ghost, just a love, I wonder, I wonder, where did she go?

she's a kind of wave
from the fingertip down the skeleton
to the tip of your longest toe
electricity, out and about and contained

she's a kind of perfect snow,
soft and blown from your hand,
blue bird, young and falling from it's nest
caught still by the spring grass
(whispering "that was quite a fall, little one")
cradled, pulling on the clouds with its beak
so surprised at its strength

she's a kind of third grade memory
Perry-Anne's palms rubbing wool
skin inches away
building static, building steam like a californian train
through the mountains (still young and kissing)
until it has nowhere to go
but into all of me

she's a kind of poem
that you keep under your pillow
whose so wrinkled and cried on
that she doesnt have corners no more
whose so loved and undone
that she's almost lost all her words

and she's a kind of rainstorm
that patters your window while you
breath her in forever
and breath her out
forever

she is


A Moment Of Clarity

Stopped,
In between a lifetime of torment,
and an hour of pain,
The man looks to the sky,
Gazing past the shower of rain,
Looking up into the vast,
and empty frontier,
He mumbles a quiet prayer,
To see if anyone hears,

He's lived a life of sorrow,
Full of years of regret,
Scattered days of depression,
Sum up the life he's left,
His eyes have no glisten,
They are dull and colorless,
He solemny drags his feet,
Living emotionless,

He's long since grown numb,
now left with only dread,
He exists only as a recluse,
Wishing for the End,
This world has broken him,
It's been all too cruel,
His Life experiences never tell him,
What it is that he should do,

But on this dark, rainy day,
A hint of something enters him,
It's a presence of an unknown feeling,
He suddenly stops and almost grins,
He glances up towards the clouds,
and asks his god if this is real,
He asks his god what this is,
what this is that he now feels,

He waits a second for his answer,
but he recieves none,
The feeling slips from his fingers,
and he knows that he is done,
He hangs his head and closes his eyes,
He silently moans in pain,
He slowly moves on into the darkness,
And continues to walk in the rain.


Whiskey River

Whiskey River, take my mind.
Don't let her memory torture me.
Whiskey River, don't run dry,
you're all I got to carry me.

I'm drowning in a Whiskey River.

Bathing my memory's mind
in the wetness of it's soul
Feeling the amber current flowing
from my mind,
to warm an empty heart you left so cold.
#3
gbreleedune
Vivamus mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
rumoresque senum seueriorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis!