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eclipse

conflict

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The hands of stars polished diamonds on our backs

made by angels from blood, they trampled on our
backs as the golden oriole's breast covered the moon.
We placed sleeping tablets on the night's tongue and learnt
the language of fire-the night spoke in it's sleep, the names
of those killed, angels left wings as they parachuted from graves.
The war was like a wind blowing against bloody wrists near a cross
that eventually reached the wings of a bird.
 
Ocean waters like blood washing against lighthouse nails, spirits
sailed on time's waters warning never to predict or prophesize
their demise. Deserts exhaled when soldiers returned home, our
shadows were distilled in a forest of moons. I returned to the soil,
letting it fall through my scarred fingers, clouds pass through the eyes
of the dead.

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Ah Barry,  Here is the old Barry imagery.  I would love to be able to turn images upside down and then write them sideways on the page.  Sometimes you put the strangest words together and come out with magic.  "we placed sleeping tablets on the night's tongue and learnt the language of fire"  who thinks like that?"

Interesting "hidden rhyme"  prophesize/ demise   nails/sailed

I liked it but of course, didn't understand it other than I got an anti war vibe.  He's back. 

~~Tink

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