

The Train to ZurichIn silence the gray beard of a German man, his glasses a reflection of the trees green blending as they go by, teaches a lesson on thought. How pensive he is over a young girl's breasts - white cream collecting at the causeway of his lips. A bloody robin in his eyes; caffeinated and heaving. A man so silent and calm. You appear more suited to a hazel seat beneath a willow tree. .... I see the dagger in your tongue drawing irrigation canals across the roof of your mouth. She sees the red in your veins. The polluted estuaries in the joints of your arms. &nThe Train to Zurich


The HookerWhat goes beyond a road which ends? What goes beyond the red lit roads of Amsterdam - what square marks their end, as all roads end: The Dam - Black soot painted on her regal skin -- There is a woman. Her shirt is open. The buttons torn off. A wind, which clumsily crashes through her teeth, pollutes the air. Her teeth, those excessive teeth bonded together like a crowded city street, every pair of eyes as a paintings. Set towards the gallery'sThe Hooker
horizon, or heaven - knowing only in speech the limits of it view - and so, so silent. Do the


Slow Hours Mean Euphoria.Brittle dice, my fawn - run timidly towards the fresh chill lingering - away from pavement and yellowed moments of ecstasy - towards a headlight pond and hidden gravel road. Stand tall herring: fresh blue sapphire pressed neatly in to the breathing night.Slow Hours Mean Euphoria.
How dim the light. How fades a sweet pea patient witch? Show the tale precious loiterer; gray bandit.


on colors and consumptionI'm planning a tour with your ghost. East coast to west, chasing breath. The hot press, and sweet sweat, of beginnings. Eyes brimming. A promise nestled between oceans.on colors and consumption
A soul. art - fresh ventricles upon black veins; Red fields birthing our hearts of the same salt. Yet separate. I see in a memory your reflection in the sea - both sea's -- you; me -- A shadow of your soul of your ghost. Some parting word manifest in my belief.
Catch me in the catacombs and you, the oubliette, escape your


After TimeI know you're going to leave me I know you'll say goodbye Somewhere deep inside meAfter Time
I know not when or why.
You must have found another love I hope she's all you need She must be someone special The way, I to you, used to be
My love for you is very real It seems to chant and rhyme My love for you will surely die Time--after time--after time
When you speak of your fresh new love Be gentle with your words Don't tell me details in your mind My life will be all blurred
I'll not cry or carry on
Your feelings I will spa
Devious Comments
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I couldn't be bothered making a signature so I made a signature saying............ wait a minute.
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common ground
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common ground
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oink.
We as We are Seen
it came out great
thanks again
xo!
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interested in collaborating?
writer, photographer, painter, whatever(er) -
I'll mix with words with anything you've got.
I'll have the next piece of our puzzle
to you as soon as I can
xo!
shane
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interested in collaborating?
writer, photographer, painter, whatever(er) -
I'll mix with words with anything you've got.
-gh
you have wonderful writing
perhaps you would return the favor and read some of mine...
thanx
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Of all the words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these- could have been.
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At least murder victims don't have to die alone...
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common ground
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common ground
I'm fine, thank you
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common ground
How are you?
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common ground
try that one.
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"Do you hold onto the dream because having dreamt it, it'd be too uncomfortable to let go? Or do you embrace the realization that it isn't that great and move on from there?"
-Roger Waters
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common ground
-tawnee
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"Do you hold onto the dream because having dreamt it, it'd be too uncomfortable to let go? Or do you embrace the realization that it isn't that great and move on from there?"
-Roger Waters
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