poetry critical

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(FoTo) The Great American Dream

"Viva La Revolucion!" is
chanted in the air above their ranks.
They're moving cosmos again
with frightening ease despite
an utter lack of precision.
Bright white orbs hang
mercilessly, eye line locked on a
bright red calligraphy brush waiting for
its prey to come undone so it could be
sacrificed to change the world.
She moves tranquilly, waiting for
just the right moment; artist's soul meets
paper and everything swerves in an
awkward and distasteful fashion.
White turns to black to avoid the
coming red and all falls to silence;
disheartening absence of a normally talkative
group. (despite their lack of mouths, too.)
And when all turns to stone and new skin is
settled in, a new breed will exist under an
awful translucent skyline.
They'll remove themselves until the next new
shade falls from the idiot box parked in front of
them and into their static brainwaves, unknowing,
unthinking, unyielding, and unable to see the
coming oblivion.


13 Mar 05

Rated 8.5 (8.5) by 2 users.
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 — onklcrispy

you don't need the link to the photo ... this work stands on its own ... indeed ... i'm not even going to look ... i'm just going to read this again .... (beautiful opening stanza! pulled me all the way through)
 — Bloodfetish

any other thoughts or paranormally conspiratic ideas?
 — unknown

thi si quite awesome
 — tragicbubble

 — unknown

 — ShelbyS