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Grex > Poetry > #83: silly, off the top of my head, just cause I could toking | |
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| Author |
Message |
toking
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silly, off the top of my head, just cause I could toking
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May 10 16:37 UTC 1999 |
So I think that red is red
who cares if the shade is a little off
or if it's constrained
by simple twists of shape or fate
So if red is red,
What is it that I really see
When I look deep into you
I know I know
I'm beyond all of that
But I'm not above it
I feel it coming on
And antibiotics won't do the trick
This disease of infectious morallity
It's got to have its way
So what if red is red
If you choose not to believe
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| 24 responses total. |
zoe
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response 1 of 24:
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May 10 19:01 UTC 1999 |
red is the deep of the oncomming rush of occurence... the sickly
feeling we twitch and squirm of...
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toking
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response 2 of 24:
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May 10 19:43 UTC 1999 |
twitch or twist
to avoid the impact
but a glancing blow
is still a blow
when it knock you realing and falling
stumbling until it's far too late
and you can't believe that red is red
even as it comes bleeding out of you
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arianna
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response 3 of 24:
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May 11 07:50 UTC 1999 |
You are trapped beneath your skin and bone.
I can free you with this balled-up fist,
break the dam and let fly
a cloudburst of red that roils inside
the paper-thin dragonfly wings
that you've wrapped around yourself.
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orinoco
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response 4 of 24:
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May 11 13:58 UTC 1999 |
..unfurling in red streamers, thick blizzards of red string,
red confetti clogging the storm drains
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toking
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response 5 of 24:
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May 11 19:41 UTC 1999 |
running haphazzard
down dusty deserted streets
bumping curbs and trash cans
barreling full force
through forgotten alleys and byways
`til it's full head of steam
finally boils out
and it comes rolling bumping grinding to a halt
and the red is another red
burned and broken
but red all the same
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arianna
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response 6 of 24:
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May 11 21:29 UTC 1999 |
Sift through the wreckage.
You hands gather the soot of searching
and you burn your hands on the ember that still glows there.
IT is not my fist like a meteorite embedded inside you --
it is YOU and always has been you,
a star that lives quietly wrapped up
in soft, pulsing muscle and warm red blood.
It is *your* heartbeat that still rings in your ears.
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orinoco
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response 7 of 24:
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May 11 23:30 UTC 1999 |
(and your footfalls echo,
footprints in the soft red clay
of my memory
each strand
of your remembered hair
reddened by the rusting soil)
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brighn
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response 8 of 24:
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May 12 02:08 UTC 1999 |
A song, once dead, long remembered,
drifts back into my vision,
the streaks and streams of a lost and torrid insomnia
creasing its impression
upon my outstretched hand and,
softly chided,
wisping away again.
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arianna
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response 9 of 24:
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May 12 02:55 UTC 1999 |
All that remains is the pulse of you.
The movements of All That Is engulfs your theme.
Red is red, even in the dark of the womb.
May you return there, return to here
return to me
one day
with star in hand,
and a smile free of pain.
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brighn
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response 10 of 24:
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May 12 23:21 UTC 1999 |
The melody remains, but the words have changed:
Red is red, I want my baby dead.
Lunacy into madness,
darkness into light.
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arianna
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response 11 of 24:
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May 13 06:40 UTC 1999 |
Well, *thank you* brighn for making you opinion of this item known with such
wit and grace. But, if you 'll excuse my french, you may take that
self-satisfied smirk of amusement at how "cliche" we're all being and give
it a nice, warm home up your ass.
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toking
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response 12 of 24:
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May 13 07:42 UTC 1999 |
well, that would appear to be the end of that....it was fun while it lasted
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arianna
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response 13 of 24:
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May 13 16:38 UTC 1999 |
IF anyone is interested, maybe we could start another one, perhaps something
circulated via email?
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toking
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response 14 of 24:
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May 13 18:02 UTC 1999 |
not a bad idea
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brighn
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response 15 of 24:
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May 14 02:14 UTC 1999 |
What was *that* for, Erinn?
My post was serious, and intended as part of the thread.
It was a turn on an old song:
"Black is black, I want my baby back."
I think I deserve an apology.
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arianna
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response 16 of 24:
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May 14 21:21 UTC 1999 |
...
Sorry, it's just the way it sounded, I hought you were making fun of the
item...
I really am sorry... it's been an aweful week, I've been very moody and upset
since Mike died; it's made mea bit touchy and weird.
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brighn
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response 17 of 24:
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May 14 22:48 UTC 1999 |
'sok. I know I'm difficult to interpret at times.
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lumen
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response 18 of 24:
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Jun 2 02:52 UTC 1999 |
Red is red, because it's in the blood.
I know you all think I'm asking for disappointment,
smashing my head against a wall of towering odds,
trying pathetically to express myself
in aesthetic dimensions
and reveal the things of myself most folks
wouldn't eat raw
face to face in mundane life.
I've cut myself for my work
and let melancholia bleed all over it--
a sort of masochistic release, I suppose.
But even I sometimes couldn't understand
how crimson sorrow was such fertile ground
for such inspired art.
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