Archive for ‘Shoummo’

May 31, 2017

A Living Fossil

by pacific


You are the visceral imprint,

The perennial impression,

Something deep inside of me,

A poignant and recurring melody.

A song I’ve always known,

The centerpiece, the cornerstone,

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February 14, 2017

A White Winter Hymn

by pacific


What is this I see?

The shimmer of years yet to be,

The draping of a quilted sight,

The flaking hope on a snowy night.

A sea of mist sprung from your lips,

The intonation of your tender quips.

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February 12, 2017

A Turbulent Mirror

by pacific


“Everything around me is evaporating. My whole life, my memories, my imagination and its contents, my personality – it’s all evaporating. I continuously feel that I was someone else, that I felt something else, that I thought something else. What I’m attending here is a show with another set. And the show I’m attending is myself.”

― Fernando Pessoa

Do I weave these moments, or do they weave me? 

Blinking here, flickering there, caught in a breeze, 

Spiraling out, or spinning in, no hint of intention. 

Caught in the scope of a placid sea, a spotless reflection. 

Staining me with hues of another time, another story, 

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February 3, 2017

A Runaway Sunset

by pacific

Sunset Silhouette by Arman Zhenikeyev

Do my words reach you, do they goad you in your sleep?

Do they pierce through your slumber, your obscure dreams?

Or do they slither aimlessly, caught in the pull of vacancy,

Reeling through your open hands, pummeling down in defeat.

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January 25, 2017

Stellar Cartography

by pacific


You gave me the courage to open the box of darkness I had left unkempt,

Who knew that my weathered heart could still garter a storm, its wintry embrace,

Subside the violent eddies, by the blow of your song, your quiet lament,

Pummel the overbearing winds, with the courtesy of a flap of your wings.

Ensue the harvest, the reaping, and then the weaving to outpace,

The crumbling of the edifice, to spoor out treasure in the ruins.

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January 23, 2017

A Shimmering Shawl

by pacific


Who are you, that sets the stage,

Gnaws on my heart, till I spew on the page.

Withers my core, with your shifting pace,

Eluding me, the more I trace,

A thousand dreams to rearrange,

A thousand words I disarrange,

To catch at the shimmering lace,

The riddle of colors that is your face.

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January 22, 2017

An Autumn Dream

by pacific


Call it grace, call it fiction,

Far along a dream, I found myself,

Beneath the eaves of dereliction.

Standing at the crooked fringe,

Within rusted woods, I saw myself,

Basking in the autumn singe.

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January 10, 2017

The Legacy of Art

by Harry



I have no interest in their prophets salvation,
In their promise of eternity.
A heritage of consumption and regurgitation,
Hallowed doctrines that are truly empty.
I don’t fear hell, I don’t desire heaven.
I don’t belong to their nations,
Their castes, their mindless divisions.
Their creeds, their malicious dispositions,
Vile ideals that breed schism.
Violence in the name of religion,
Wars in the name of patriotism.
I don’t desire power, The endless rat race,
The need for higher positions.
I don’t need mind numbing materialism.

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