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Sunday, February 19th, 2006
9:33 am

stay_distant
beautiful day
so free
let it always be
this way

wind kisses soft
and its all iv got
to me its a lot
shell say

this is what i want
and i want it to stay
pray to play
and relise
she can anyway

familys walk by
and shell relise
hers is better
ither way

situations always change
but its strange
how sad can make her happy
dancing
singing in public
double trouble
fine today
shell say

always
beauty
save me
play me
tease me
than leave me
ill laugh anyway

ither way
shell say
today is the day.

current mood: crazy

(breath life into words)

Tuesday, August 16th, 2005
12:35 am - i hope to breathe life back into this community

grinchgirl
Sex Without Love
by Sharon Oldes
How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.

(breath life into words)

Sunday, November 21st, 2004
4:00 pm - Beautiful

lindsays_laugh
Dear Poetry line readers,
It's been a few months since this site has been updated and i figure that it's time for that to change... enjoy and comment as you wish

Marvin bell
To dorothy

You are not beautiful, exactly.
You are beautiful, inexactly.
You let a weed grow by the mulberry
and a mulberry grow by the house.
So close, in the personal quiet
of a windy night, it brushes the wall
and sweeps away the day till we sleep.
A child said it, and it seemed true:
"Things that are lost are all equal."
But it isn't true. If i lost you,
the air wouldn't move, nor the tree grow.
Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
The quiet wouldn't be yours. If i lost you,
I'd have to ask the grass to let me sleep.

current mood: creative

(1open mouth | breath life into words)

Thursday, July 29th, 2004
7:51 pm - spaz

lindsays_laugh
Hey everyone this is a new site... someone post something.....

I guess i'll just start us off

Love by beau sia
* Because we are all looking
for the complete definition
of love,
if only we could open up
our encyclopedia brittanicas
and know,
but love isn't that easy.*

The foxhole manifesto By Jeffrey McDaniel
*Then there were those people who used god to
threaten you,
saying you better
be careful-god's watching, like god was a
badass hillbilly
sitting in some cloud
with a pair of binoculars, a cotton candy beard, a
six pack,
and a shot-gun*

current mood: cynical

(2open mouths | breath life into words)


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