Friday, 14 September 2007

Friday Prompts 0845

The Bad Joke gene

This was your place of birth. This daytime place

Black was the without eye, black the within tongue

Rocks, Moss, stonecrop, iron

The clouds cast moving shadows on the land

Screaming for blood, crusts, anything

The woman in the kitchen making tea

Are you prepared for what the night may bring?

See the life stab through, a dream flash

The game is finished when he plays his ace.

He tried a step, then a step, then a step

Turn out the light and I'll explain

How strange it is to have a loveless heart

Herded mountains, steaming

The word inside the word, unspoken

Kick up the fire, let the flames break loose

The bullet oozes from the gun

To be eaten, to be divided, to be drunk

After knowledge you expect forgiveness?

Don't talk to me of love, I've had an earful

Yellow smoke creeping to these windows

A soft October night

Full of high sentences but a bit obtuse

Have the memories rearrange to fit the mood

The Town Clock. Drunk in Residence, Creative Writing Class

It hurts

Laughter tinkles among the teacups

Strode across the hills and smote them

He was much possessed by death, but hearty for all that

It's something you say at your peril

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