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Jan. 15th, 2010

01:24 am - poem

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surprises--what are surprises?
looking back they lose their glow

wishes may be granted
if my wishes are granted
then I will breathe easily

dreams, fantasies, terrors
the cat meowing at the shut door
purposeless I drift in my cocoon
of wonder

my story is so old, so repetitive by now
not even you would like to hear it

my humdrum life, the wheel
of it turning--with only
vivid fantasies to keep me alive

I ache with wonder at 
the slow action of my self
growth and maturity are
not quick enough for me

I need a dream to hang on
I need an opium pipe to suck in
clouds of happiness

there is nothing,
not even anger anymore
just the longing

a lake of separation between us.

More Poetry . . . 

Comments:

[User Picture]
From:another_dexter
Date:January 15th, 2010 07:41 am (UTC)
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nice imagery
opium would nice to smoke
you'll probably then tell me how harmful it is
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[User Picture]
From:altheabashar
Date:January 15th, 2010 09:00 am (UTC)

opium

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the opium is a metaphor ;)
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From:reginaclarejane
Date:January 15th, 2010 04:04 pm (UTC)
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Wow- I SO liked this, my friend... the reader can sense the longing in this and relate to it as well. I esp. liked the second and third stanzas...
Well done- as always...
:)
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[User Picture]
From:altheabashar
Date:January 15th, 2010 08:31 pm (UTC)

thank you

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thank you for your incredible support
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