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Death of the Poet

January 20, 2012

vole

olev

levo

olve

elvo

evlo

No matter how you unspell that word it comes at you like a knife wielding maniac determined to destroy your sense of proportion, but when it ends in ashes and midnight sings the blues a poet can again make love to her darling suffering muse.

 

*When you dare to love you toy with pain*

~msloftis

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14 Comments
  1. January 21, 2012 5:53 am

    love your slashy playfulness…

    • January 22, 2012 1:41 am

      LOL Thank you E! I’m a knife wielding swash buckling slashy little bastard from way back lol ;)

  2. January 21, 2012 6:50 am

    Behold the quickest way to unspell from out of vole and into love, one altered letter at a time by word association, without winding up looking like a maniac who’s wielding a knife!

    vole
    dole
    dove
    love
    :)

    • January 22, 2012 1:39 am

      LOL Brad, I KNEW this would pull you out of the shadows! Just because I’m fucking around with the words and being my foolish self. I like your spin on this and yes we need to associate those words properly to tone down the maniacishness! :)

  3. January 21, 2012 4:46 pm

    :) nice on Val..

    • January 22, 2012 1:37 am

      Thank you Guy! Ah, the pain of love is the food of the muse I feel. :)

  4. January 21, 2012 7:01 pm

    Oy, I hope not, Val – I prefer its gentle side… Nice one.

    • January 22, 2012 1:35 am

      LOL Denise I like the gentle side too. I was just having feelings about life and love, applying it to the soul of all poets. Poets really are them most pragmatic of people because whatever happens to us we mine it for material. Yes, we are practical people at heart.

      • January 29, 2012 3:06 pm

        So true, Val, we DO mine it for every nuance of feeling we can get out of it! I think when we love we actually open ourselves up to pain. Maybe we are masochists at heart, lol!

  5. msloftis permalink
    January 23, 2012 1:05 pm

    When you dare to love you toy with pain. :)

    • January 23, 2012 5:20 pm

      Do you know what? I like that line so much I’m adding it to the poem and giving you credit! THIS is what I love about the comment section of blogs, we toss the poetry back and forth. Thank you for this msloftis :) I hope you come back again to read!

  6. February 1, 2012 11:46 am

    LIFE OH LIFE

    The poet never dies
    Or maybe he did
    But before finding life
    In the typing of unknown signs
    Flavours and smells his hand
    Discovers when stripping leaves
    One by one
    While the heat is charming
    This universe which becomes
    His inner world

    http://youtu.be/PQsOXnZsOTg

    • February 2, 2012 1:08 am

      Thank you Gilles-Marie, for both videos and your words. It’s good to see you again stubborn Frenchman. :)

  7. February 1, 2012 11:53 am

    or maybe like that:

    http://youtu.be/c6MRYLWJb1o

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