http://spacecollective.org/Lamaic Sat, 21 Aug 2010 18:43:07 +0000 http://spacecollective.org/Lamaic en http://spacecollective.org/Lamaic/6219/Transparent-Prayers-on-the-Soft-Mirror-Carpet- http://spacecollective.org/Lamaic/6219/Transparent-Prayers-on-the-Soft-Mirror-Carpet- Sat, 21 Aug 2010 18:43:07 +0000 Lamaic 6219 <i>Pulsating heart of a fool<br /> Undermining feeling beginning to pray within your walls<br /> Long ago understanding lived<br /> Now it is gone <br /> <br /> How we can't touch our lips, slowly filled with love<br /> There in the distance through the work of words we see each other <br /> <br /> The need<br /> The longing <br /> Crippling I can't identify<br /> <br /> The passing left us in memories<br /> In the blinding darkness of the light stumbling only to convert in a mirror's eye <br /> Here in the softness of my carpet kneeling trying to make prayers from my veins fly</i><br /> <br /> <img src="http://spacecollective.org/userdata/AJh6RD4J/1282441287/Transparent_Prayers.JPG" border="0" width="" height="" class="padTopBot"> http://spacecollective.org/Lamaic/6219/Transparent-Prayers-on-the-Soft-Mirror-Carpet- http://spacecollective.org/Lamaic/6218/Brief-Story-of-Poetry http://spacecollective.org/Lamaic/6218/Brief-Story-of-Poetry Sat, 21 Aug 2010 18:26:00 +0000 Lamaic 6218 <i>It was a bright, winter day. The icy, crystal air scraped at my cheeks. With every breath, the frost cut deeper into my throat. Right through the extra thick wool sweater, the cold clawed at my bones. It felt as I was naked past my skin. <br /> This time there was no hope of returning unscathed. Somehow the inert brightness and cold amplified my sight; my eyes like binoculars extended over the vast snowy whiteness. And there it was, at that time only a small dark blemish, expanding in every direction towards me. As soon as I thought of running, it was in front of me. Now I could clearly see the tender soft flesh, radiating multi-colored halos of emotions, transcending my thoughts, dripping feelings like lovesick knives straight into my heart. Without any hesitation, out of nowhere, the most elegant of gestures. I will never forget this serenely balletic bow of introduction. The sensation dropped me to my knees. And then singing with the voice of mystical sirens that echoed moans of pain; <b>&quot;I am Poetry, very happy to make your acquaintance&quot;</b>. From this moment, I knew I had no chance.</i> http://spacecollective.org/Lamaic/6218/Brief-Story-of-Poetry