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07-13-2013, 06:42 PM
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#1 |
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...DA GAWD...
Join Date: Jan 2013
Posts: 2,355
Battle Record: 13-34
Rep Power: 5860413    |
no sell out just enjoy activity over ego nah mean...
i know my roots and never choose to fall victim to the fraternity
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WP Po'ethics  |
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07-13-2013, 10:19 PM
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#2 | |
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Senior Member
Join Date: Jun 2013
Posts: 186
Battle Record: 2-3
Rep Power: 37 |
Quote:
ok, wrote my first topical in over a year, what u reckon? ... The Train Station. midnight iron, snaking out like specters fingers, then melting in the mist i would like to think their odyssey is over, and that they welcome the abyss as tender as a kiss, these shingles and their watermarks - they speak to me almost secretly ... a hundred years gone, a hundred years of grief to be and what unsung tales have these puffs of brisk-departing smoke imbibed? what many stories could be told and why - do open eyes behold them - blind? those ochre tiles, tanned to character-perfection, by nervous cigarettes scratches, dirt and hints of sweat; the signatures of phantoms, in swirls and pirouettes a beggars nose gulps coffee steam - snobbily, from her sumptuous throne of trash no gumption's prone to last, but no one thought to tell Her Majesty; she couldn't stoke the ash i guess it's a macabre song, this with such a gulfing jaw, that challenges one to turn one's back on the Sun ... then chase the wheels of a pram as it tractors along or amass with the throng - no better coat than the Rorschach smudge of busy strangers no distance greater; backwards, forward, backwards, forward; forward with the width of vapor i watch the tired carriages, shrugging along their shouldered clouds of people eighty tons of frozen faces, homeless-nameless ... and I can't see one ounce of evil i think, maybe, they're just like me ... you know? - trying to unravel truth about life, about death - but ... what the Hell do I know ...? I'm merely passing through |
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