

Yellow TearsYellow TearsYellow Tears
How many times the spring came ceremoniously, always one morning with the awakening of a bird who had waited all winter on the same weathered branch
to sing the first octave of its familiar song,
it came with the feeling of dampness under our sheets and between our toes as melting snow seeped through worn shoes demanding our socks to mold like pulp
to the clumpy, transfigured earth. We knew when it was coming before it came we sat like birds and waited while all the pies
were eaten, and the pans cleaned and put away, we waited on stone chairs bene


Benign RitualsShe bathes with grapefruits and dull razors,Benign Rituals
strokes of pink metal like a cat’s tongue
slide across her thick hair
separating foamy cream into valleys,
uninhabited by sequins and layers of chiffon.
In the intensity of creation she dissolves
with the merging of her sculpted leg
into a luke warm world,
her instrument played to the hum of polluted water
as it pirouettes calmly down the drain.


To be Innocent is to Love...To be Innocent is to Love DeeperTo be Innocent is to Love...
Standing at the base of our structure we look up, but the point is too high so we search for it in each other’s eyes. In this cycle, a raw diversity of ideas permeates and the infinite cleanser woman
points a laser, to mix, focus and finally smash
our thoughts indecipherably together,
radiating the dirt among us. Each morning in the beauty of these things we rise higher on purified particles
of knowledge, and are assured that to look up
without straining is to witness our final coming together of parts, a divine union &nb


InterpretationPart One: The InstructionsInterpretation
Use pencil crayons and paper, think of something you love and draw but at her age, she only loved what she saw.
Part Two: 24 Colours Condensed
French Green love in rich circles the earth,
a mother's womb Cerise beats sticking to fleshy spaces Red scissors
jetting through the others
pointing to the colours Sky Blue soaking the paper tears rising and wripping, a hiccup.
There were more colours!
Emerald Green Oz, blind from the radiance left a Cotton White film
t


My Path~My Path~My Path
My path began from home to here Heard many strange sounds In my bended ear. A sis boom bah From here and there, A crying prostitute in despair. A car horn from God knows where, My pant cuffs as they slowly tore. My loafer shoes and their dragnet scat, The flutter of a vampire bat. A crash!....my enemy was just a cat... Now how silly was that? The jazz which played a mile away found a home in my heart to stay. And I drank my fill and filled my flask, Upped the anti whenever asked. Yes,


Summer Park Feeling~Summer Park Feeling~Summer Park Feeling
As a child sitting under the slide I found that summer park feeling. The slide's cool shadow on hot wood
And its oil-treated thickness. A drift of sand, dry and dusty- The kick of pebbles. I could plunge my hand into the rounded rocks
The cold rolled up my arm. Playful screams everywhere ~She's gonna catch me! ~He's gonna kiss me! No danger, but excitement. The high-pitch squeal of Bare skin on the slide overhead. The Whoosh of track pants on the way down And the Thump Thump Thump
Of Converse running up again.
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Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, and enflames the great ~ Anonymous
Clubs: *Circleoffriends, =Nature-Club, =Click-It, =onewordphoto, =FixMyPic, *Ex-po-zure, =WordoftheWeek
~M
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[link]
=Az
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A man's home is his skull. -Sean O'Mara
=Az
--
A man's home is his skull. -Sean O'Mara
Thank you Cathy....
I think I need to make you an avatar...
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@kleurvision
You like oreos I see
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@kleurvision
Thankies for the fav, sweet cheeks.
=Az
--
A man's home is his skull. -Sean O'Mara
--
Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, and enflames the great ~ Anonymous
Clubs: *Circleoffriends, =Nature-Club, =Click-It, =onewordphoto, =FixMyPic, *Ex-po-zure, =WordoftheWeek
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