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Vogon Poetry posted 31 Mar 2006, 09:03 by Curethan, Didact

When I sit down to do some writing, the first half to full hour can be an agony as I strive to find my pace and linguistic rythym for the piece I am going to work on. Perhaps this is because I only do so sporadiacly - however. I find it theraputic and cleansing to first disgorge some inane and absurd poetry or go blah on the web. This way I'm doing both. Enjoy.... or not. The Night of the Pale Mourning The night bled into the horizon as the sun fled. Hens cackled like bereaved chickens, The fox removed his headphones. And the night continued to paint the sky the colour of sorrow. The mountains sank to the plain, Cows removed their palatoons, And danced hidden amongst the shadows, Darkness encompassed the eyes of the world. All was cosseted in the blanket of night, Playful rocks winked as I slept, I felt their eyelashes stir the breeze, The stars turned their light inward to leave the sky unbreached. The dark enslaved the moon with a headsock of velvet, People of the world were enlightened By the vilisimnitude of light denied, Peace rained down like a sightless glass. With the sound of a million motionless rocks, The pain of a butterfly peaked, As it withstood the gale of my sigh, And the darkness broke into the endless crash of morning. view post

posted 15 Feb 2007, 15:02 by Curethan, Didact

[u:qc1081ii]All that I know.[/u:qc1081ii] All that I know is that, All that I know is, That all that I know, Is that all that… I know. Is that, All that I know? Is that all? That; I know. view post

posted 09 May 2007, 15:05 by Sokar, Auditor

I like your first poem..very nice..inspiring in its gloominess... I'm surprised there are no replies though..perhaps there is little to comment on... In any case, nice 'work'... view post


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