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Post by Aish on Jul 19, 2013 7:24:41 GMT -5
feet dipped in magic fine wings singed by too much sun I punch holes in my freckles with a carved bone awl amber thread quilting stars to skin as atoms refuse to spill their secrets but no, no, no impatient smugglers cannot tear open my cocoon woman and child converse in the patchwork womb dreamless refugees going about the work of translation our burden of joy does not come without suffering without sacrifice
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2013 2:27:18 GMT -5
Knock out!!! "Impatient smugglers cannot tear open my cocoon" awesome! as always Aish I enjoy your poetry alot!
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Post by Aish on Jul 24, 2013 15:04:27 GMT -5
Thank you, Flowalpha!
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Post by twistedangel on Jul 27, 2013 0:49:48 GMT -5
you write with a subtleness that if am honest goes over me head most times tho that loses some meaning for me it never stops me from loving the words an flow of your writes..this is no exception love the last stanza cos i completely agree with it but the line i really really love is "but no, no, no " an thats cos it shows you write with confidence..not many would throw in a line like that <<<probly not explaining meself very well..soz, but IMO it shows a awesome attitude
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Post by Aish on Jul 28, 2013 1:41:00 GMT -5
This just made me smile. Thanks, Angel. That "no, no, no" screams novice trash to some people, I refuse to take it out because it was a valid thought process. I love to know what I do wrong, but when a few people truly get what I do and what I'm about it makes me deeply happy, not because it's praiseful- because we are riding the same wavelength. I see no need to stomp my feet-my mighty ramble is self sustaining (trust me I've tried to quell it, it doesn't work). <---- big ass cheesy grin
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Post by LonelyForsaken on Jul 30, 2013 14:30:57 GMT -5
“our burden of joy does not come without suffering without sacrifice” - Nor without time.
I’ve been struggling to find words worthy of reply. I love it is cliché and getting old. I understand is much the same, an understatement, and anything said here may be too intimate. I know the woman and feel the child. Am I a smuggler? I do not wish to intrude. To know our soul is not easy. To hear clearly is hard to accomplish and translation is time consuming at best. It is not for the impatient.
“but no, no, no” – May not be poetic to most but is very profound and I feel its poetry. It is both denial and true realization. So common when listening to our soul. What is known is always too much. It must be broken down and assimilated in smaller chunks but as chunks the meanings are often too painful without the balancing portions, yet they must be taken in a sort of succession. It is hard to expand to these levels of truth, to push through. Do the atoms refuse or are the secrets hard to hear? Self abandonment is near impossible but pre-conceptions are earplugs. The woman speaks loud and clear. Water flows like energy, with energy, and there is more than enough for all. Your flame, even more… pure, knows this and cannot be extinguished any more than water can be burned.
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Post by Aish on Oct 19, 2013 13:40:53 GMT -5
I actually find my " answers" between Id, consciousness and spirit come in large blocks or leaps. I love them, they are instantly gratifying and I assimilate them rather quickly. It is the scope of what is to come that is slower, the dialogue of middle life that I'm referring to here.
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Post by windfog on Oct 30, 2013 0:24:16 GMT -5
For soul recreation ... W.
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Post by Bastet on Nov 28, 2013 3:31:26 GMT -5
The first two stanzas are baseball's, especially your opening line. The final stanza/ thought made me think " but why"? You're a phenom, Baby. You make me sound like some lame fan girl .
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Post by Bastet on Nov 28, 2013 3:48:51 GMT -5
^^ Piece o' shite comment up there should say AMAZEBALLS not baseballs.
The amber thread piques my interest. Is it merely the color? Is it part of you literally? Is it made from your hair? Is it something I could never fathom because I'm dense? Are the stars literal? Are they tattoos? Are they metaphorical?
Did you ever play with those sewing card things when you were a kid? That's what it sort of looks like in my head atm as I'm reading and rambling. Oops.
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jekyll
Dark Initiate
Posts: 10
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Post by jekyll on Nov 30, 2013 16:55:04 GMT -5
Subtle and flowing as always. The words run like an undercurrent to a more beautiful picture. Thoroughly enjoyed.
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