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April 22, 2004

Posted by anoddphrase in Uncategorized.

hm, like i said… an ode to jenn 😛



into the distance

               (an ode to jenn)





it is to the gentle strumming of an acoustic           [guitar]

            that [the inside of] my head pays homage to

                   my ears picking up the

                        silent echoes of–                                                          sound.

                                                                                                                        upon and over,

                                                                                                                      in the distance..


                                                                                                            {or is it closer than

                                                                                                                 [i can] imagine?}



      the voice of one


                            saddened, tilts of gazes

                                                                                                (off into the distance

                                                                                                            and               afar)


                                                                                                            (natterings and daydreams)

                  –holding a withering rose, gently,     limply, in her hand–


            continues to worry me.



            the voice of one



                                                                                                too bittersweet

                                                                                                            and earthly


                                                                                                     to be an angel’s


                           sings huskily

                        [reminding me of dusk,           in twilight]



                                                                                                            to the strumming of

                                                                                                                        guitar strings



eyes,   like

                    deep, (liquid) obsidian


                       in pools, of tears

                     of    {dark[  black]}



                                                                                                                        staring off,


                                                                                                                     into the distance.




1. Anonymous - April 23, 2004

hey there… that’s my sis! i hope that she’s doing well… she concerns me a lot… i need to get up there and take you guys out for a day to get you away from the madness! anyhow… hope you are welll as well as my lil sis… thanks for stopping by the site and commenting… take care!
“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which we take the time to really look fear in the face… You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror, I can take the next thing that comes along…”Eleanor Roosevelt

2. closethippie - April 23, 2004

I still enjoy the many forms you choose to showcase your poetry.  Keep it up.  It is going great.

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