[x]

the sound of gears and stoneborn in steel and clay
rising to press back the clouds
and scattering them with a wave
of hands and arms made for
other things

the sound of gears and stone
shifting and grinding
shifting and grinding
walking towards the edge
of the world

pocked with the mark of times
when hungry beasties fed
and took me to their bed
if only in their minds
not their hearts

the horizon is never closer
and entropy betrays me
but not yet, I say,
but not yet, I say,
and I move through the night

William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

FarewellEs ist nicht alles wirklich
in diesem Zustand zwischen
Wachen und Schlafen...

" Wie du mir warst..." flüstern Türen
und Wände seit Jahrhunderten
in stillem Einvernehmen
dazu das Atmen des Holzes
ein- aus -ein- aus.

Der blinde Spiegel tut ein Übriges
und schweigt-
er hat schon zuviel gesehen.

Grünes Gezweig rankt am abgeplatzten
Fensterrahmen
und schlängelt entlang
der verblassten Tapeterie.

Einst blühten hier Rosen
sehr laut und sehr rot
und jeder Strauß weinte still
in seiner rostigen Vase.

Nun liegen Fliegenarmeen- beinoben-
an den matten Scheiben.

Ihr letzter Blick
war sicher ins Grün.

Witch's BrewBubble bubble
toil and trouble
eye of newt
its the witching hour.

Its the witching hour
where the witches
are in a gitty mood
making new potions.

A dash of frog's lips
scale of dragon
wings of a gremlin
stir them all into a cauldron.

Witches just love making potions
they got so many viels on their shelves
you can find all that you seek
at the witch's cottage.

Make your true love fall for you
there's a love potion that'll do the trick
want to be a few inches taller
there's a growth potion to help with that
just be careful not to drink it all
that is if you want to be a giant.

Witches love the time of hour
making their potions with wick

The Power of Wordsa gentle whisper on the wind,
carries across nations,
through homes and across cultures,
a simple play on speech pulling heart strings,
a gentle rhythmic lull in your ear,
even the sweet sound of silence calls to you,
"a pictures worth a thousand words",
yet a single word can tell infinite stories,
end wars,
bridge cultures,
and unite families,
a single word may change the world,
as can the neglect to say it,
a single word but once uttered,
can span the vast flow of time,
and carry on into eternity,
words speak to the soul,
and connect people in remarkable ways

Death's True KissYou fall in love with a ghost
And dream yourself an island
You take me for a home
But cast and torn apart

Fill me up with a whisper
Take me for a friend
Dead or alive
It all comes to end

Those visions I've seen
Oh, so many times
See me in dream
That only comes to life

You've known me before
So know me again
Like the diamond you once been
Light and inflamed

Slice me with silence
Shed tears of mud
Fill me my requiem
Take me for none

Outcast and dethroned
I will still hold my ground
Forbidden and alone
I too will brake down

No matter my saviour
Hold with dead lips
Those words that I whisper
Death's true kiss

With love there you fight m

Living :Conest Entry:To say man is sinful, doesn't seem to quite say it.
Because all that brings to mind is blasphemers, fornicators, God-haters--all of us.
But to say man is dead, is all the more accurate
Because a corpse can't feel sympathy, it can't hear cries for help.
It tastes not, hears not, handles not, it becomes as lifeless as the very idol it worshipped.
No, to say man is sinful doesn't seem to quite say
Because he who identifies as a cadaver can't hope to know who he really is.
That's why my endeavors are heavenly, and my ID is "Living Among the Dead" Because I know Christ gave me life so I could feel your pain even though find it pleasurable,
To se

Who I amWho I Am

&

Who I Want To Be,

are so far away from each other it hurts.

Twerping Birdies

I. not a morning person

Twerping birdies, chorping away at the day
As if I were supposed to be awake
At the crack of noon.

Cheerful construction workers obliterate
The restful silence, encouraged, perhaps,
By the bad example of the twerping birds.

There's plenty of rest for the wicked,
But none at all for me; let the early bird
Gorge itself on wormy guts for all I care.

II. insomnia blues

like unto the gentle, polyphonic susurration of the wind
through the leaves of the sibylline vuvuzela tree,
the evocative, resonant, goldurned whiny two-stroke
of the kargyraa engine of progress that powers
the early morning hunting call
of the ove

vengeance for injusticea mother she cries
cries at the war
now she waits
waits for the call
of the soldiers orders to kick down her door
vengeance she took filled with hate
for her husband and child who couldn't be saved
now she's locked in a cell
she buried her son
they put her through hell
but it's okay the rich man won

cirque de nuitanfangs ein rauschen am nachthimmel
so geschehen vom flattern der wimpel im

halbdunkel und dem klagenden streichton einer
singenden säge.

genommen und versteckt
verloren und gefallen

und ein riss der das zurückkommen
nicht möglich macht.

ein bild unter glas
getrübt - verhangen wie weisses Metall.

( hast du das licht vergessen- hast du?)

die leine baumelt mechanisch
am hilflosen arm.

ein atmen - stockend und menschlich fast
(etwas pocht herzähnlich)

ein raunen geht durch unsichtbare reihen
enttäuschend wie ein sprung ohne boden.

verlierst du dich verlierst du mich auch
und haben wir schon uns beide verlo

One Thing Leads To AnotherOne teachers bitterness
Can lead to this
Student that's struggling in the back row
A snide comment about a test score
And their whole world
Will take a blow

Little did that teacher know
The magnitude that their actions hold
That one comment, look or eye roll
Could tear that kids whole world

That kid leaves class
Without a second glance
At the teacher who was meant to enlighten them
But broke down their confidence
And shattered them

It starts with passing giggles in the hallway
To comments in the next class that their friends made
To their parents questions at the end of the day

To the very next morning that same kid
Is late to class becau

The Ugly TruthI'm not a miracle worker,
I'm not superwoman,
I'm a broken, 17 year old girl, who has no idea where shes going in life.

And I'm scared.

A Friendpeople change at a rapid pace
but i know that until the end
despite the problems we may face
in you i'll always have a friend
there's never been another you
and never will be, on this earth
so i will miss, that much is true
i love you, friend, for all it's worth
when the day comes that we must part
and we reach the end of this life-long endeavor
you'll always remain in my heart
and we'll be intertwined forever
so keep in mind as you go out
to do great things, whatever they be
that i will be here, without a doubt
you'll always have a friend in me

The morrow has dawned, crisp aThe morrow has dawned, crisp and clear,

A new medium on which our lives shall appear

I slept and dreamed of dreams unrecalled

Like faded memories lost in fog

But those faded memories do abound

Yet in your arms my soul is re-found

Washed anew by love's hot touch

Bless my heart, I love you so much.

The Song of the Dead (poetry)"The Song of the Dead"

The sands are falling one by one,
Can you feel them in your head?
Closer and closer the time draws near,
Can you hear the song of the dead?

A plague is due, they said;
Can you hear the song of the dead?
The sand drips faster and thicker than blood,
Don't dwell on it -- rest your head.

They eat time for breakfast,
Rest your head they said.
They'll snatch you up in your sleep,
Can you hear the song of the dead?

Gaping jowls of time,
Fears that julian and shred,
My soul may have left long ago, but
Can you hear the song of the dead?

There's too many of us, they said.
The hourglass is empty, they said.
All in which you

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if only...She looked at herself in the mirror...
She liked what she saw...
The weight loss suited her...
The new clothing style reflected a professional personality...
The new shorter than the usual haircut...
The shiny nails...
The image was perfect...
A perfect Trojan horse in which was hidden a little frightened girl...
She smiled padded her baby blue dress and mumbled:
- If only you can see me now... If only I could stand in front of you and make you understand the importance of this image I created...

But no, she knew that no matter how many layers she'd cover herself with, he'd still be able to see the essential core...
He'd still be a

her side...She was sitting on her desk, caressing her Canon EF 50mm lens in her hands, and thinking of him…
It’s been a while since she last thought of him, what made her remember him now?
Was it because of the pictures she had found in an unnamed folder on her old pc?
Was it because of the new poem he had posted on his blog and that wasn’t addressed to her?
Was it because she knew they had a friend in common?
But then again, she had deliberately turned on her old pc to find this folder…
She had intentionally visited his blog to read his latest poems…
And she had purposely led the conversation with that friend to know if

beDlAMThree sleepless nights have passed already…
Three nights haunted by so many shadows from his past…
Shadows he tried so hard to cast away…
Shadows that forged the gloomy and bitter side of him…
He wanted to see the sun, he wanted to be positive, but nothing was helping…
Beirut was still under siege for the sixth day…
No positive sign was even in sight…
Every politician, though trying to sound rational and calm in his speech, was uttering threatening and frightening words that made him sense a more weighing ghost of war on his shoulders…
Lebanon…
Beirut…
His family…
His friends&#

Right now...Lebanon's burning...
Lebanon's fading away...
Lebanon, what he loved the most in his life...
He had left people, jobs, places he loved...
He had left them, felt a bit sad, yet was able to get over it...
Lebanon was the only thing he tried leaving, time and time again, and was never able to...
He always compared himself to a tree...
Having its roots deep in Lebanon's soil...
The moment he gets uprooted, he'll whither and die...
he lies on his bed, a hand behind his head, and another on his chest...
he was able to feel his own heartbeats...
He still had a beating heart...
He discovered that he still had a heart, and it was strongly

once and for all...She opened the window...
took a deep breath...
inhaled the smoke of her cigarette...
puffed it away, watching it fly high in the sky...
closed the window again...
sat on her desk...
opened that mumble jumble red book about commerce codes...
tried to read...
yet to no avail...
she was only thinking about how much his last poem made her feel bad...
"I know it's about me...
I'm positive...
I'm not a narcissist...
but the date, the content and all...
it's the day after we met...
he DID write this about me...
although he had promised not to anymore...
He will never stop...
he'll keep bugging me with his writings...
I know it...

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convey

by ~fletchergull, May 17, 2009, 2:45:30 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Urban & Spoken Word

Even when colors turn to gray...
And spring and summer last one day...
Even when flowers fade and die...
And when no bird remains to fly...

Even when soul mates grow apart…
And cold sneaks into every heart…
Even when sleep invades the land...
And sea is swallowed by the sand…

Even when wrong is seen as right…
And love becomes a losing fight…
Even when all will walk away…
I'd like to be the one to stay…

conveyby ~fletchergull

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Urban & Spoken Word

...

love 1 1

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~iiiva May 20, 2009

veryyy nice...

~fletchergull May 22, 2009 Professional Writer

thanks

~Thawthan May 19, 2009

Loved it

especially the first line

~fletchergull May 20, 2009 Professional Writer

thanks a gazillion

~Lebaneseness May 18, 2009

dakheeeeel Allah .... sure worth waiting for, you are the Man.

~fletchergull May 19, 2009 Professional Writer

thanks a lot...

~Lebaneseness May 19, 2009

walawoo

~Prtoujours May 18, 2009

Finally

I think that even if you're the one to stay, the cycle will get back to you.. it's a cycle Fletchy.. non?

~fletchergull May 19, 2009 Professional Writer

when I wrote it, I meant it in a positive way...
now a few days later...
suddenly, the last two sentences:
even when all will walk away
i'd like to be the one to stay

they mean something else, completely different...
and the opposite...
it IS a cycle...

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