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LegacyI walk towards the water of the shore And leave my footprints in the sand. They are unaccompanied And they disappear shortly, With the tide.Legacy
by ~urbane-poet
True PassionLift a rock, Tap a petal, Cradle an injured bird, Shuffle the papers of infinity And spread them across your desk.True Passion
Try to make sense out of nonsense. Try to make the lifted rock bleed. Try to shift the gears of your mind. Try to synthesise love between you And another entity remote from yourself.
Yes, we have ascended to that height, Wrapped Aphrodite’s oblivion around our eyes - with willing submission from all parties - As love soars free around our heads We are imprisoned within our skulls.
Hold that lover in your arms and express
by ~urbane-poet
Willow and LeatherWe had sat, watching from the pavilion, for some time now as our penultimate batsman guarded the stumps. He was being cautious with his defensive strokes but their bowler, the brick shithouse, was becoming infuriated. We could all hear him grunting ever louder as he hurled the ball at Tubby.Willow and Leather
“That fat bastard has had it. I don’t even give him until the end of this over.”
I found myself unable to deny this, incapable to deny it as Tubby’s knee-bending and amateur defensive lunges made the inevitable happen: the ball had struck the pad on his left leg and they all roared at the Umpire, who raised his right finger to th
by ~urbane-poet
When's never, Bandini?I was sitting in my adjustable chair, designed for ergonomic comfort and stability. Normally it would offer support to my lower back but I was slumped forward hoping to see something on the screen. It was a digital crouch, that position of mine. Tired, leaden lids were dragging themselves ever more closed over my eyes as I felt the fingers on my right hand idly tapping the number pad of the - ergonomic - keyboard that lay in front of me. In the day I would look out to his right at the parked cars, basking in sunlight, and at the enormous office building that resembled a warship in dry-dock, albeit one so far inland that it was part of a businWhen's never, Bandini?
by ~urbane-poet
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"She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say "when.""
you have nice poem
especially Untitled is very nice
--
eRs
[creativity is invention of God]
--
eRs
[creativity is invention of God]
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Begin, murderer. Pox, leave thy damnable faces and begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.
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Begin, murderer. Pox, leave thy damnable faces and begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.
--
イエ バチ khkhkhkhhhhh.
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