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eyelids and earlids

eyelids and earlids

 

 

beauty from color

shapes

scenery

glimmer from a lake

 

all lost with eyelids closed

 

birds songs in the forest,

symphony of city car horns

beeping to a crescendo

cooing of a morning dove

breathing of a lover

 

all lost with ear lids shut

 

is one better

to lose than the other

 

one would have to ask Helen Kel...

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blindsighthearing

First Light

thorn rose in quicksand

a pale siren lost at sea

gurgling a hymn, that's

what she means to me

 

she's saying little of late

quieter now than of yore

time's calmed her down

once I called her a whore

 

came home at all hours

partied till she dropped

spent money like water

manic how she shopped

 

once a nymphomaniac

in bed she wore me out

I was not t...

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rosewhoregracessightblindashesfirst light

the sound of the sun

the sound of the sun

 

lying in bed

he hears the sun rise

 

forest full of trees

trees full of birds

birds full of song

 

he rises, feels for his cane

shuffles his way outside 

to the warmth of the sun

and orchestra of birds

turns towards the rays

that he cannot see

opens his ear lids and 

smiles at the morning

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sunblindhearing

Crescendo

The BBC orchestra was in full flow

Sibelius symphony number two

We were third row in the balcony

Up there you get a better view

 

Suddenly she sat bolt upright

Whispering to me with a sigh

How her neighbour's right hand

Had just been stroking her thigh

 

I turned to glare at the aged culprit

It was then we decided to swap places

Now the ensemble was playing Brah...

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blindconductorcrescendoorchestrasex-maniacsymphonythigh

Fallacy

Fallacy

An eloquent visage placed upon a pedestal of mosaic stones, 

Creamy white snow shimmering, 

Glistening freshly cut phernomes sit eloquently upon your chest. 

"They will die!," you say. 

"They will die!," you say. 

Erogenous plains outline your temporal landscapes,

An infinite glaze of still-life sunflowers,

Procreating infants breadth, 

Hypnotizing Adriatic oils,

...

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blindblindedflowersintenselovepain

Too Dead for Dreaming

I look at you

You don’t look back

You can’t hear what I’m saying

Blinkered, you start to backtrack

Into your world of playthings

 

I wish you’d join me

You never know what you might see.

A thousand fountains – a million forms of ecstasy

A trillion ways to make your brain cells dance

But you won’t even try, your pupils are too blind

 

I’ll speak to

...

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Bob Dylandreamskitchenblinkersfountainblindzombieviolenceapathymischieflabyrinthmazegalazygaledreaming

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