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Seeds

"Seeds" Blue reaches reflections touching ripples tears in time ephemeral caresses fragrant Green my canopy opens the light inside me cracked eggshell golden-yoked sunshine pale turquoise kintsugi splintered paths inside my mind in the smallness of me something quietly blooms ragged yet refined a gecko changing colours rides Godiva barefeet along a spine the tracks of all your breadcrumbs autumn leaves lie scattered there you enthrall me I am succumbed a forest full of stories romancing wintered histories making love glamour from some god-damned awful tragedy raindrops now metronome paused to verily become there you whisper secrets swaying away we dance in time pressing temples worshipped velvet beds grass-stained causality, there are victorious verdant signs silver moonlit in the mist two crushing bodies warmed now sheltered from what was cold silent prayers hands touch an exotic mind stop watch pause rewind ashes from a past death you paint love hearts on my limbs war paint dust to dust now each other's curious quarry in this small death confederate ghost I shimmer in your eyes, perilous fey in rapturous disguise, the weather doesn't worry I gift you trust I shimmer in your azure skies laid out on moss blanket the wet and ready forest floor a kindness unrecognised pulls out reeds of truth buries frayed ropes saxophone blue unbound, buried once 6 feet in lies the rosy naked sensate eyes bless the berries tongues speak to taste ripe beckoning lips a quest to open holy grail a portal and a gate all sensibilities kiss what has been missing passion's fruits spill the honeyed nectar drunk on prophetic visions a ripe red heart pulsating next to mine a voice that speaks at long long last "I know you, I know what's in your mind" wakes the shaking climbing vines where heaven’s scent star anise and lilies intertwine sex cerebral grows overgrown within the yearning climb bodies sing like willows bending in a storm new summer scorches defibrillates and reigns again hot reckoning enraptured emerald greens seasoning new stories arousing dreams planting futures' seeds A bed of purple violets and blue forget-me-knots a crown of daises wild roses, thorns piercing sensuality sharp nibs to write what remains of a story tattooed rivulets of red upon alabaster skin The Forest is all mine The Forest is all yours Make what of it what you will closing past opening new doors seeds, new forest soil to till (LadyLabyrinth / 2021) éclosion / Tony Anderson https://youtu.be/MVobZa369ks "Datura" / Tori Amos https://youtu.be/WX_dwuF-6oY “What liars poets and everybody were! They made one think one wanted sentiment. When what one supremely wanted was this piercing, consuming, rather awful sensuality.” D.H. Lawrence “It was as if thousands and thousands of little roots and threads of consciousness in him and her had grown together into a tangled mass, till they could crowd no more, and the plant was dying. Now quietly, subtly, she was unravelling the tangle of his consciousness and hers, breaking the threads gently, one by one, with patience and impatience to get clear.” D. H. Lawrence https://www.tonyandersonmusic.com/

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Date: 1/15/2022 7:27:00 PM
If embedded video not working, this is the link, which does work. "Eclosion" by Tony Anderson
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 1/15/2022 7:27:00 PM
https://youtu.be/MVobZa369ks
Date: 3/26/2021 4:21:00 AM
Stunning
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/26/2021 4:47:00 AM
It comes naturally.
Date: 3/25/2021 3:30:00 PM
Datura.
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/25/2021 3:30:00 PM
https://youtu.be/WX_dwuF-6oY
Date: 3/24/2021 1:28:00 PM
In the Electric Mist with Confederate Dead/James Lee Burke.
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/25/2021 6:27:00 PM
The movie is never as good as the book. ;)
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/25/2021 6:18:00 PM
To Tootsie, regards Misty. lol :)
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/25/2021 6:18:00 PM
https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/james-lee-burke/54687-in_the_electric_mist_with_confederate_dead.html
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/24/2021 1:29:00 PM
http://www.jamesleeburke.com/books/in-the-electric-mist-with-confederate-dead/
Date: 3/24/2021 7:10:00 AM
What a beautiful read this morning! The opening imagery of canopy and eggshell was awesome :)
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/24/2021 12:24:00 PM
Fish n chips and a glass or two of 2015 Toscana Villa Puccini brings on the hallucinations of a delusional writer. Thank you. Many years ago I read a fabulous novel by American writer, James Lee Burke, titled "In the Electric Mist with Confederate Dead"...well worth the read. My mind strayed to that story this morning upon waking.
Date: 3/24/2021 5:18:00 AM
“It's a queer thing is a man's soul. It is the whole of him. Which means it is the unknown him, as well as the known. It seems to me just funny, professors and Benjamins fixing the functions of the soul. Why, the soul of man is a vast forest, and all Benjamin intended was a neat back garden. And we've all got to fit into his kitchen garden scheme of things. Hail Columbia !
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/24/2021 5:19:00 AM
The soul of man is a dark forest. The Hercynian Wood that scared the Romans so, and out of which came the white- skinned hordes of the next civilization. Who knows what will come out of the soul of man? The soul of man is a dark vast forest, with wild life in it. Think of Benjamin fencing it off! Oh, but Benjamin fenced a little tract that he called the soul of man, and proceeded to get it into cultivation. Providence, forsooth! And they think that bit of barbed wire is going to keep us in pound for ever? More fools they.
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 3/24/2021 5:18:00 AM
Here's my creed, against Benjamin's. This is what I believe: 'That I am I.' ' That my soul is a dark forest.' 'That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest.' 'Thatgods, strange gods, come forth f rom the forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back.' ' That I must have the courage to let them come and go.' ' That I will never let mankind put anything over me, but that I will try always to recognize and submit to the gods in me and the gods in other men and women.' There is my creed. He who runs may read. He who prefers to crawl, or to go by gasoline, can call it rot.” D.H. Lawrence.

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry