Poll: Who? What? When? How?
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View poll results: Who? What? When? How?
Reeed
5 36%
Blueeeee
9 64%
Voters: 14.
#1

Untitled


She Sells Sea Shells
She tried to paint me in primary
but I still came out black and whiter
than the marble that she's made of.
She's next to me, blistering
from twisting on medicine caps
that were child-proof all along,
grinning and grinding the teeth
that she was born into.
I dug out a hole for her.
More than she'd ever do for me,
but less than I would do for myself.
It was perfect in dimension like
the skin that she has stretched
to hide any signs of life.
Marked, maimed, and deemed
extra unordinary, I caught her
masquerading as a trainwreck,
and have to admit that even I
had to look twice. I think
that she's exactly
what I need.


Exploration #1 - This is not a painting of a ship

I am a painting, unfinished and
I watch from a mantelpiece; as just a shade apart, a wave
and an emotion await collision.
Trembling within aphotic depths, he remains
amidst a mote of expression, where
under the surface a cynical mood sways, like a
respirator submerged in its own endeavours to save itself.
The atmosphere stole aboard particles
- waited in the wind - stopped and
sunk with the sails;
stranded mid-air between their wreckage,
and ever reaching the sequestered docklands
of her maudlin mouth.
One of them said the shade was distant enough
to touch. Since even the most cloistered
of lost souls
hasn't been stranded in these
heuristic waters before;
as the very same lithe strokes cascaded
through the splayed hairs of a lonely artist's brush
in reach of the edge of their world.
While he's retracing the sashay of waves
that still wrap around their intertwined limbs,
to the tips of her fingers
that point to the surface, and yet
become part of the shading beneath their bodies.
Where all that remains
are the undisturbed skeletons of;
one grasping to their lover, the other gasping for air.
Filth, pure filth... That's what you are.
#5
Haha I've written dick-all in the past 2 odd months.

It's all I have
Filth, pure filth... That's what you are.
#7
Quote by confusius
Then you are ****ed for the next round...


Shut up!


I know
Filth, pure filth... That's what you are.
#8
Okay Steve... I'm gonna put the new voting rule to the test here, just to make sure it works
#10
I don't think it's automatic enough yet...

You need more speed on the job Steve! Less sleeping more coffee! You'll be spitting fire at self-voters in no time.
Last edited by confusius at Oct 15, 2007,
#11
So as it stands the scores are 9-4.

I'm still confused.
Filth, pure filth... That's what you are.