September 16th, 2007 at 8:01 pm by Colleen (Colleen's Poetry)
What happened to poets who stood up for chance?
What happened to lovers who stood up to dance?
What happened to passion that came without brand?
Oh the times, they ain’t gonna change in this land.
We are products for product we are born with a void.
So much lust for fulfillment, that nothing’s enjoyed.
We use and we use all trends in demand.
Oh the times, they ain’t gonna change in this land.
So some of us gather to welcome the fall.
Some of us answer to a higher call.
But until we gather ourselves hand in hand…
Oh the times. they ain’t gonna change in this land.
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September 6th, 2007 at 12:02 pm by Colleen (Colleen's Poetry)
It is said that no man is an island
yet I have sailed these waters and
seen one exactly thus.
Puzzled by my siren’s song,
he came to hear her and
she found herself, for once, without a song to sing.
Now she stays alone in her abalone bed,
confused and voiceless.
-Wide tessetura of seduction abandoned
and staccatissimo left on the hearts of her victims.
He was born to sail,
His blood runs thick with it
like the very salt of the sea
or the endless protein polypeptide chains
which halo and surround him in golden glory.
He is gratified in his solitude and
takes no comfort in the bows of this ship
or any other.
This ship sails on, but it continues to
stop off at the island now and then
just in case.
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