Monday, March 13, 2006


cleaning washing vacuuming the mind, changing the nappies of thought, smoking time away.
A tidy house is a tidy mind, fighting the forces of chaos in my domain is tiring. Order over time.
Put on a mixed lot of socks, yesterdays shirt until todays shower, burn wood. Chaos over order.
No thing never changes ... maybe death... Lifes great multicoloured threads wend thier weft.
... and unravel for all minds to move through, loosely, lost, finding, til we are parted. Endarkened.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

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Thursday, May 18, 2006 1:10:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

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Thursday, May 18, 2006 1:30:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

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Friday, May 19, 2006 3:40:00 PM  
Blogger andrĂ© said...

As I'm going along through your blog, I'm going to be trying to label your poetry with some type of adjective... hmmm... existential . . . just doesn't quite cut it. No, I love it, really, wow. . .

Friday, June 16, 2006 12:06:00 AM  

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