a_poet_lives_within_my_soul
monadh housed inside its wrought-iron cage
quivering strings
which feed on light and dark
I call up to the sky
send down my love
bring back his gentle voice
release my deeds
from the storms
of wrong and right
let rain fall upon my open palms
lend just a slight amount of kindness
to a lass with no chance
in this crazy hectic world we live
being that all the saints have fled
and taken with them
their radiant orbs
of incandescent light
see how she rambles so
with no rhyme nor reason
a heart gone mad
and a poet
out of season
010310
...
gelfling your heart speaks well of your soul
or vice versa rhyming or not
I too indulge words with spirit and
spill them out to others
sometimes appreciative ones

where are you writing from?
010310
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monadh from whence do songs arise
or springs on a mountain's side
in a world of many misty mornings
somewhere between land and time
form and freedom
010310
...
mikey a demon lives within my soul.
a poet guards the door and keeps it inside.
often i want to kill the poet.
010311
...
beastmaster silly fucking mortal

you know nothing of demons

you'd cry if you saw a real one

it would shatter your happy world to pieces

silly mikey girl
010311
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silentbob i feed it pizza to keep it coming. The poems get anxious and i have to feed them with depression. 010311
...
mikey im not a girl. but im also not sure if you meant me.

and you dont know the depths of my soul. therefore you dont know how i would react if i saw a demon. how do you know i havent already?
010311
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just i have.. 030504
what's it to you?
who go
blather
from