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Literature Text
Reflection is a clingy whore, and September
is an incoherent borderline who flees
courageously from permanent stories.
I have not forgotten how to suck
the charcoal clouds out of the sky,
how to dream fevers out of lullaby,
or how to force the synapses of spirits.
On the way home, I stopped to consider the music of the rustling fountain
and the leaves shooting water in the breeze.
And I knew love by the pitch of the owl's hoot,
I knew soul by the order of the hornet's stripe.
They wanted an apology from her.
Shannon, they said, you broke the fucking universe.
And before I could stop twitching electricity
from spitting neutrinos
the pavement hit my lips
and I saw a galaxy rise.
is an incoherent borderline who flees
courageously from permanent stories.
I have not forgotten how to suck
the charcoal clouds out of the sky,
how to dream fevers out of lullaby,
or how to force the synapses of spirits.
On the way home, I stopped to consider the music of the rustling fountain
and the leaves shooting water in the breeze.
And I knew love by the pitch of the owl's hoot,
I knew soul by the order of the hornet's stripe.
They wanted an apology from her.
Shannon, they said, you broke the fucking universe.
And before I could stop twitching electricity
from spitting neutrinos
the pavement hit my lips
and I saw a galaxy rise.
Literature
Have You Ever
Have you ever looked at the sky,
And searched for a shooting star,
In the middle of the day?
Have you ever put your head down,
And looked at the ground,
Searching,
For a lucky penny?
Have you ever made a wish,
On a bit of dandelion fluff,
And then watched it float away?
Have you ever closed your eyes,
And thought about,
Happy past times?
Have you ever dreamed of flying,
Only to wake up,
And realize,
You're still firmly on the ground.
Have you ever watched the rain from the window,
Fall to the ground,
And wish you could go outside and dance in it?
Have you ever counted your age,
On your fingers,
And wished you could turn
Literature
that may.
we turned off televisions and radios, hearing your name on strange tongues, and turned instead to solace; your grandmother, alone in her room, untold of your death. and Pavel, part crying to your coffin, part laughing towards the sky;
Ira, in purple hail, we saw you standing there. your bones just buried 'neath the ground,
denied - we saw you everywhere.
Literature
To whom ever it may concern
To whom ever it may concern.
I have something to say. I'm not good on the phone and I don't have it in me to see you face to face. I'm hoping to say everything in a letter, I thought that the words might come easier. So please, I'm begging you, read this letter with open eyes and an open heart.
I could go on and on about unimportant small talk and pleasantries but I won
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edit 12.14.2011:
compressed soooo much
I hope you still like it
.
edit 10.2.2011:
yeah, edited so soon.
.
full title: in every storm, may you find the light.
it's a bit chaotic right now,
will be changed.
© 2011 - 2024 archelyxs
Comments43
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"Shannon, they said, you broke the fucking universe."
--oh man, I just love that.
a bizarre beauty.
--oh man, I just love that.
a bizarre beauty.