Process/Yours, mine and ours.A Poem by dukovanCreative process
An inexplicable scribble to get the day started.
Blinding basking in my bullshit, I bullshit no one in this white backdrop. Equipped with know-how of serendipity. Let go of longing or whys of how. Hold on the to hues of now, until they let you go. The young die well, and the good die young. Repeating from anothers' tongue, "Like dying young, idols got the best of me." A solider in a French cafe, obscuring in absinthe, then returning from emerald fairies, escaping sovereignty for a while. The holy neon tangerine river humming to eternity, is longing for parched fighters, seeking collaboration. A red-haired woman at the bar, barters with a ring, like a virgin losing a child. Oh the possibilities are endless, the tongues twist in every way, beckoning children to come and stay, but they want everything. © 2012 dukovanReviews
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3 Reviews Added on August 4, 2012 Last Updated on August 5, 2012 |