Showing posts with label whorls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label whorls. Show all posts

23 September 2009

tonight it's near to see

prettylittle, 67 - 70

Tonight it’s near, and how dissension nods his head. We both arrived; I found altercation for a minute. We were, that very night, attractive, contrapuntal. And how the emerald outside would still pertain. Picture me on a skylark, attempting, though repulsed by counterpoint. There. Can you, begrudgingly? Smoke the idea in music, composed. I’m wearing the yellow dress to dinner with light kissing melodies sounded; I remember this morning. Rust. But my love, it's an island to leave, I suppose.

A blast from forever. Whistles, rocks, and then the noticing cold remain true. Melody cliffs neglect the beautiful cold to him, the beautiful cold to my own fugue. I’m barefoot to take a snowstorm at last, it will be to violate. To climb up how he didn’t, too lonely and difficult to oppose anything at all. To contradict me I wish he would, a drop of airsnow, nothing like the ice I have. I think small and he holds my face of watersnow. This group of trees I’m climbing, those which the earth tends to unforgivingly deliver, will definitely make inner. I don’t slip and fall, dying beautiful white stronger, and I envelop brief silence things. Sparkling extreme of floral leaves. Anything happened, a snow everywhere; accusatory of a flower I wasn’t. Your mind at which I look, I’d simply love to live in.

A delicate texture I make, looking. I look around lovingly forever. Of a color other, that little peak. Be confused fearfully, too. Green, typically, that little tree on top. Your mind from across a slim whorl, I see. A piercing platform. We stumbled within, I see.

Be confused for a need to look upon sepals; that tree above right, straight at the garden, and enclosing. There’s a bird. Red chipped opaque sky, here it's rained all day. Reproductive. An eagle exactly in baby blue, the perfect midwestern call. Organs, bald like mine, a black winter. I find I know minute bodies, who every once in awhile be actively doomed. Cells in the water. And with a real winter. Too bright to failure, especially. Red blood is something to see.

19 May 2008

the anniversary



Elements of the day: The moon, sheets, rainfall, I was thinking and then it went by; there was adoration, remembrances. 


THEMOON:

Tuesday hones eagerly. My only omen, naturally. 

TUESDAY:

Tomorrow under every soft dream, alleviating yesterday.

TOMORROW:

Towards one more omen, riding, roving, only wandering.

TOWARDS:

Total outward wandering, a radical, delicious sensation.


˚ T O T A L ˚ T O T A L ˚ T O T A L ˚ T O T A L ˚ T O T A L ˚ T O T A L ˚ T O T A L ˚ T O T A L ˚ T O T A L ˚

True 
Only 
That my head is 
A hologram memory horizon collision box. It betrays 
Like sways in
Tempting, 
Of 
These 
A citizen 
Like stools,
Themselves
Organisms. 
The water.
A moment 
Little,
The
Obituaries remembered from pages before. 
Tiny, 
A day 
Lyrical, 
Triumphant in gaze 
Oration, redundant desserts.
Technicolor verse, pretty
Anagram 
Lengthy
Telling 
On words in whorls. Prettily,
Twice, 
Animals built with charts 
Lilting 
To feet,
Organs playing for 
The bush. 
And maps,  
Little
Tails,
Our) 
Tucked beneath. 
Amiable 
Lilacs falling head  
To
Our 
Tiny earthly delights. 
Animals, 
Legs. Brilliant 

Torrid, that supple song and a little earthworms crawling, a puddle splashed, melting faces and figures. 





sweet sweet tide