Azrael3D

~The Meeting Place~ I am the age now of my father as I first remember him.   His face is on me and I hold the same position. That music is his and wave of hair not mine I am caught in a cyclical time. That shamrock breath and hands to skip rocks those pained eyes that never forgot. Smile line and stubbled chin a posture that won't let people in. I am him. As I remember, quick breath upon an ember. The jumping flame and rolling bark a freewill craving an exclaimed spark. And I am now, the same age as he when once he used to hold me. My smile wide as his used to be there is no separation between him and me. Whose ha

~The Weight~ That weight that weighs upon her that image of the grade 12 brush cut boy who swooned girls with no words at all. but that weight which won women wavered his trust in love that weight; a great debate in his mind of who really did love the likes of his kind that boy who saw and thought song whenever he saw a wrong and took it on that boy who knew that the real world was love and that vision is not all it's comprised of. That boy knew a love so hot it burned and turned like a whale in a sling and with no water to swim that whale how could that whale sing? A master of guilt and a keeper of time he knew just when his opp

~Ever Gone~ Drinking down dark red oblivion to get that hot feeling back to dizzy himself to forgetting that there is no going back Those cards have faces which reappear and those faces cannot be trusted with each passing year those stained teeth are locks hopelessly rusted. If a chain is only as strong as that link that's been broken and if a relationship can be annulled by a feeling that's been spoken then love has clearly not been awoken and will need a louder bell because love is a beast that raucously feasts on a heaven greater than hell. Love doesn't let a day fade away nor long to be free day after day nor wish of a life

*Want* The system has become clear, I see; We'll destroy the Earth for want of a tree. By: Sean O'Mara

April 25th 2008 Poetry Workshop. Confluence of soft and Warm bristles- A condensed form of Alan Moss. A January lift and feel of Summer day's dew from washed Trees and curled bows. Sinking into sleep a sliced bread feeling; A slipping and falling into sections that Domino. Arched flatness with a subtle curve As colour images pulse and Kaleidoscope centered to a fixed cog black drop and stationary as turn meets twist and spiral- A carnival colour and cotton candy floss chaos. Shapes repeat and gnarl. A fern with stocking leaves me looking camping and going. A target of feathers Through a needle lance and cross stem T

*Ever Gone* Those times we had were memories bought and will not be soon forgot but this time in love we must move on but remember nothing felt is ever gone. -By: Sean O'Mara

*Changed* Picture frames Lie face down; Smiling Tuxedos- Wedding Gown. Cadaver flowers; Magic yellow dust gathers beneath- posthumous. Wedding trinket; A pretty plastic present made to last a lifetime, Though, the marriage wasn’t. A Wedding dress; passed down, refrained Virginal white, Yet, unstained. The cake’s Top Tier; A lesson learnt: Broken vows- Freezer burnt. A Long Grim shadow; pointed and crossed. A weeping woman sits Where the bouquet was tossed. Everything is wrong; Left estranged. Whispering and whispering "He's changed." By: Sean O’Mara

~Life's Calculation~  2 Be +Not 2 Be _________ Nought 2 Be.