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S l a v a c i o u s ..

pole stare
gather at the fire

I am mercurial in regards
of the mirages

slurry juice sluice

splashs out
the gashs
open mouth

the hunger shoes
fall one by one
the fingers grip

the long brunette
cascade
spillway
rush

rush on

About This Poem

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: north ontario, CAN

Favorite Poets: Klo , .., Ida, .., Rhiannon1010, .., Pleiades, .., Valryianne, .., Ester, .., Stephanie, .., Emina Smajevic, ..., Elefentee, ..., Sommer Lyn, ..., Jasmine, ..., Rula, ...

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Comments

Esker

Esker

12 years 9 months ago

Down the cold porch

slavacious fuel

...she stares
across the busy street\
I hear her voice
memory filled
drenched in
game breadth

she wants what we have
so coiled and coined
bg girl adventures

hunger.. the lisp

against a sugar phone;
delicious

Proprietress of Crimson Hearts

Proprietress o…

12 years 9 months ago

adventures...

a poem that flows into the comment that flows into poetry....
it is cold where we are,this warmed me a bit, ifelt a summer night in here somewhere.
(at least in my head)
love from here,
Kata

Esker

Esker

12 years 9 months ago

Yes it was a summer

the pole star
Northern

the fires
creativity muse drives

summer transitions
the magic of mirages
the heat inversions..

the second looks

Esker

Esker

12 years 9 months ago

..link if may..The Underground Youth

Persona......I can feel the snow descending
the bite of air
Kimmy smoking her cigarette
the bright dark eyes carefully
keeping note
Talking to the other clients
If I turn this Kodak Share camera
they would be in black and white
standing under the awning
where the grocery clerks loaded
Atlantic and Pacific Groceries

when this photo was taken
there was still the tall Enter
and Exit lamps circa fifties
at the exits of the parking lot
for the addictions center

But Im staring at the snow
falling
silent and soft
cold and beautiful

Ian.T

Ian.T

12 years 9 months ago

Steve

The decay of the warm days into winters grip bringing stories to relate of times gone by, as we huddle around life's fires. Gleaning tiny bits of life's feelings as we seek out those things that had warmed us so.
At least your writes make us think and take us on journey's we would have never taken,
Yours Ian.T