#1
I woke up in the pre-dawn twilight, and this is what happened just after. you know who you are.


we held hands under the starlight and milky way
until the night could no longer reach us.
and we climbed until I had to scramble
by myself into that pearl tower

you waited on the edge of that forever
for me you watched your own kind brush by
and I don't know what you were thinking
but I don't think I ever thanked you.

instead I condensed my everything
into that moment high above,
shotgunned my soul into another
and did what I do best to you.

my recollection's full of wild horses
and whispered inspirations of
the wicked things I did to
get back at me for giving in.

I don't know if we fired off enough rebellion,
but it felt right at the time.
and when the rain finally came,
maybe it was just another lavaflow
so I could do what I do best
to you.
Last edited by spike_8bkp at Sep 8, 2010,
#2
beautiful, my friend. i connected with this so much.

i thought you kept things fresh thematically. the images of "rebellion", of "wild horses", of "lava" cascading down a tower wall as you climb up to a girl waiting for you on the edge. you gave the piece depth with mentioning of you had "gave in" before, signaling that the current "you" is a changed "you" and that you are being who are meant to be and are doing what you are meant to do.

i interpreted this as having a really endearing sentiment and i hope you wrote it that way and that there's not some underlying sadness here. i just thought it was a really great poem.
here, My Dear, here it is
#3
It's funny you say that last part. I'll let you have it any way you like, but the original idea was not exactly the traditional boy-girl roller coaster, as this might make it seem. I cannot explain it, unfortunately, but I'm glad you see the happiness in it and even more that you like it, Subway. Thanks.
#4
you ever seen this picture before
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see how the star about 4/5ths to the left kind of looks like its sitting on top of the mountain? It could so easily just jump up into the rest of the stars. Theres another nice big bright one a little to the right. and im sure there are some handsome stars in that city back there. but it just sits there. and it will always sit there. because it is a picture ;]
I see you, not quite of the same kind (maybe your that patch of snow), somewhere on the mountain. The top isn't quite the sky but there's a star there so it might as well be.

I thought it was interesting to be together holding hands, then moving to climbing, then suddenly, one is scrambling and the other is waiting up above.
shes looking at the stars, you're looking at her, but the difference is shes not going anywhere.

and even though you never say 'thank you' i think you do
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Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
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#6
Really meaningful and deep. I love it!
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#7
Thanks for the photograph, jimi. I hadn't seen it before, but it is beautiful. Anything that can make the big dipper look so small and yet make arcturus so bright has to be something magical. If it's not too bold for me to say, there seems to be a genuine feeling of happiness in the replies so far, when the intention, I'll admit, was anything but. It was a fun experience, but one that spiraled ever downwards and eventually found itself going up in smoke. I even wonder if I wrote what I meant to. Maybe I don't even know what it means.

But that is the whimsical nature of poetry, and once again I'm glad to see an array of perceptions being taken from it. Thanks.
#8
Read this last night. You are one of my favorites.
マリ「しあわっせはーあるいってこないだーからあるいってゆっくんだねーん 
いっちにっちいっぽみーかでさんぽ
 さーんぽすすんでにっほさっがるー 
じーんせいはっわんつー!ぱんち・・・


"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching

#11
Quote by Bleed Away
I don't know Sean... I have read much better from you.


I think I would agree with this, in a slant sort of way. I believe, yes, Sean has written much "better" pieces. But of all his pieces, I've never read one so raw and tangible and delightfully perched on the tip of my tongue... to the point that I'm reminded of waking up on the days where my mother baked Cinnamon rolls. That momentary excitement and that point where you realize that.... "holy shit, I'm involved in this"; that's where this piece excelled.
#12
Detective Cross was saying something very kind right as I bit into a clove of garlic. Imagine that taste. Carefully.

This wasn't for you to like, Fred. It was to childishly defy your morbid and moral sincerity, security in hordes of symbols and beautiful phrases. So keep that, my dear sir. And we shall meet again sometime!

Zanas, Sanaz, Ascro, and Scross, I've never received such a compliment as yours and I'm thankful to have waited till now, for I'm not sure I could have appreciated it up until this moment. Thank you.
#15
finally read this. beautiful. mades me think of all kinds of dark blues
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