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The Strict Machine

"The Strict Machine"
Take a note pick up your sharpened quill tap dance your screen your mind like a Magpie's beak a Silent Epiphany One, Two and Three a Silent Jackhammer pneumatic drill Blackbirds fly off the page they're swooping for the kill A new dawn swallows freedom wings some writers think they’re Poets they pay their golden tokens their cups that runneth over to gain entry to their idle Strict Machine gilded lilies bendeth over to try and colour pretty all the leaves roaming spineless leftovers Keep on writing pay the Tiller Man who opens all your doors to drink in drunk the sycophants sugary genuflecting soliloquies they throw their love around their new bridles who are bit and showered with praise stale wedding confetti their sunny smiles and wanton egos debunked legs spread on black and white chequered floors where their muses wear their holy pants they roll their blinds and gaze through sunless windows Love’s in a small box buried deep inside the schism irreverence written accolades grant you what you need the most honey dripping lips for licking brown stars revealed dog stars black and mirrors genuflecting glory trails and words their bottomless transparent wavelength prisms not prisons? honesty’s lost in written paragraphs something's always missing close your eyes hold your breath sink silently in your iridescent clear water potpourri petalled Roses-Are-Us unsullied bath... along the rim scum perhaps there floats the key that's hidden treading water with razor toothed sharks in the kaleidoscope colours of your mind LIFE is written there's the key there's the path Truth. Forbidden. (LadyLabyrinth/Nov 2018)
"The two have to go hand in hand - the atmosphere and the music. I actually get rather worried if I can't see the music first. There always needs to be a mood, a feeling, a story, even if it is abstract. There's got to be a narrative to guide things before they're even created." Alison Goldfrapp
"No man is an island...." “Collaboration is the essence of life. The wind, bees and flowers work together, to spread the pollen.” Amit Ray, Mindfulness Living in the Moment - Living in the Breath

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Date: 5/7/2019 1:42:00 AM
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Date: 5/7/2019 1:40:00 AM
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Date: 3/30/2019 6:53:00 PM
So True Life is written Reading is the Key The Path is eyes of the beholder
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 5/7/2019 1:35:00 AM
I don't think "reading" is the "Key", "Love" is the "Key", it's finding the key that fits, this can only be found by walking down all kinds of different paths, roads ...some roads are harder, and more cracked than others, but all roads eventually lead home; everyone has a different concept of what "home" is, but in the end, ALL ROADS LEAD HOME. This poem of course is about something different was a moment on a path in my road.