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 Post subject: Ssplatty - Poetry
PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2003 8:30 pm 
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Phantom Admin - It's all about me
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Joined: Tue Dec 11, 2001 2:15 pm
Posts: 819
Obsession
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

it's like Casual Sex,
why do i find myself attracted to
the deep dark secretive,
emotionally unstable,
atristically expressive types?

it must be a sin,
why do i catch myself thinking about
his deep dark voice,
laughter and tears,
aesthetic tastes?

the obsessions
poison my heart and soul like
repeated inhaled,
mind-beating,
self-teasing pollution.

say a prayer
to save this hopeless life from
its physical,
emotional,
self-induced destruction.

thank God,
his melodies go constantly round my mind
but have never formed the harmonies
that were never meant to be.


Last edited by splatty on Sat Jul 09, 2005 10:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Ssplatty - Poetry
PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2003 8:31 pm 
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Phantom Admin - It's all about me
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Joined: Tue Dec 11, 2001 2:15 pm
Posts: 819
December

don't really have a title but i wrote it while listening to george winston's december . . .

Quiet, peaceful, light notes
somehow hit me hard.

Gentle, soft, white flurries
can still freeze and hurt.

Funny how beauty, such rare beauty
can make one so sad.

How can something as elusive as a feeling
be so strong?

The simple melody calms me,
but my heart is beating fast.
And the tears won't go away.

It's not just the music.
No, it's not the snow either.

But how it all makes me think of you.

I am missing you.




I want to be what I was when I wanted to be what I am now.


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 Post subject: Re: Ssplatty - Poetry
PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2003 8:47 pm 
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Phantom Admin - It's all about me
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Joined: Tue Dec 11, 2001 2:15 pm
Posts: 819
He said . . .



He said . . .
I would never lose him.
But he was thinking of himself
not of me.
Of the concrete, the physical,
the immediate.
Of course, it's easier.

Like a puppy . .
He will follow, be faithful.
I can pet him, train him,
care for him.


Use a leash, then he can't run away.
But that's the physical, the immediate.
Love is not like that.

The dream . . .
Has so quickly escaped my mind
unnoticed.
The abstract, bodiless, timeless-
So important, yet ignored.

I CAN'T FIND IT.
A part of me is gone.

I think . . .
Someone stole a part of my soul.
Or maybe I misplaced it
while rushing to the plane,
or enjoying the sun and smiles,
or crying in the dark cell.
Even Mephistopheles couldn't find him now.


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