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On life and its vagaries

Blaze

with 8 comments

What’s this strange ennui-

Ruling my soul-

Stifling my being,

And not letting me go?


I writhe,

Fall back into it

And hears the metallic ring

(Fish plates falling on iron railings,

Echo…………..i…………n………..g)


Odd,

I am still solid

I have bloody mass


This summer still has tongues of flame

Its night-

And I am in a dead sweat

(Could be blood)

I had drunk all the wells up

(They were dry)


Words jumble

Worlds vanish

Muse die

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8 Responses

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  1. ooohh, i love this one:

    “This summer still has tongues of flame
    Its night-
    And I am in a dead sweat
    (Could be blood)”

    such passion echoing thorugh it all. wow 🙂

    • Thank you dear. Those are kind words 🙂

      Sam

      March 21, 2010 at 9:58 am

  2. fish plates…echoing…intriguing. hope the muse does not die, completely. wonderful….

    brian miller

    March 13, 2010 at 9:51 pm

    • Thank you, I do hope so too, muse shouldn’t die whatever the circumstances……

      Sam

      March 21, 2010 at 10:01 am

  3. brilliant.
    i like it

    kseverny

    March 14, 2010 at 1:14 am

  4. i like the way you stretched out the echoes.

    sparrowsong

    March 20, 2010 at 11:29 pm

  5. Thank you! Glad you like it.

    Sam

    March 21, 2010 at 10:05 am


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