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The poetry of MoonFlake and a number of other Claw Members. Feel free to post your own here if you are a Claw Member. I've now moved some of the older stuff into an archive, cos, well, the page is getting too big.
MoonFlake
MoonFlakeLogs
TaoOfMoonflake
Dave and the Pooch
Blunt stands dreaming under a deluge of water
He dwells on spooge and the petrol mans daughter
Just as his thoughts turn a little 'hard core'
A frantic knock: Waynne has tea-bagged the door.
Like a Timmy for Gobbles, we search for combination
"It time to go, we don't need further explanation!"
Confident strides our towel clad warrior,
Fearing he not butt-sex on this corridor?
"No No" shout the our portal challenged boys
"The door is fucked, it's not a ploy!"
"What is this?" says Dave, intrepid engineer,
"It?s a simply a machine, I'll fix this gear"
With coquettish grin the door is slammed,
He will open it again or he will be dammed.
Go Web, Go Web he yells again and again,
But it'll not open, that is plain
So off I go with a chuckle in heart,
Leaving Dave behind, posing like a tart.
"Help is on the way our dearest Dave"
His face turns red, his demeanor Grave.
Tis not the gallop of horses off in the distance,
It?s the troll from the desk come at my insistence.
While opening the door she dives for the towel,
Form his lips escapes an elongated vowel.
"Eeeeeeee, eeeeeee, I say"
This certainly isn't our hero's Day.
With a flurry of towel the door is slammed,
He makes his escape before he is unmanned.
I'll bet he'd rather forget this story,
When we nearly saw him in all his glory
But to our laughter and cries of: "Da Hooch, Da Hooch"
We will retell the tale of 'Dave and that pooch'
From this vantage point
the buzz and pulse of the city
comes to me.
Assaulting my senses.
An ever present reminder of reality.
The sun,
A dimly remembered dream of its past glory,
bathes the world in a cold morning.
Struggling to bring new life
through the manmade haze of human endeavour
settled like a shroud over the city.
I feel no warmth from its pulsing heat.
Cut off.
A casual observer of what we have become.
The reality of it all
beating on the door of my conciousness.
An old pet desperate to be
let in
from the rain and cold.
Ignoring its pleas
I try to dwell a moment in peace.
But the lock is an old one.
And the door is flung open.
And I am bathed in kisses
Of grime.
Of pain.
Of necessity.
Good morning.
What's it all about?
I find my meaning
But lose my soul
My Anger
My Lust
Is ground to dust
When I lose my way
My will to fight
I strain, and I fret
Deep into the night
My body decays
My brain overloads
My life to a sequence of battles erodes
I look to the future
I look to the past
I look to a fantasy world
Forgetting my spirit
I drift far below
Deep in my head I lie curled
In a ball
In a rut
In a heavenless pit
In a mixed up, too-sensible
Boring, and sent-from-hell
Busy and lazy routine
Maturity is a rhymeless bitch.
gift
me
held hand and heart
a gift for you
gently kept
in soul (and safe)
from all
guarded
with wrapped attention
closely ribboned
secrets revealed
lost life and love
untied for you
me
a gift for you
opened
Lessons
Agonizing futility
Sitting quietly
Inner voice screaming with baseless rage
To sit quietly
Anywhere else
Dull droning
Incessant, nagging nothingness
Wasted, impotent speech
Devoid of substance
To sit quietly
Anywhere else
Dreaming
Beautiful, exciting, formless things
All around a maelstrom
Sitting quietly
In the shrinking eye of the storm
Click
Dormant mass under dust cover lies
Silently its sleeping potential waits
Time for activation the siren cries
With rusty parts the machine grates
Clicky Klakety with clockwork whirring
Gears slipping as torsion groans
Faster faster the rotation blurring
Grinding round mechanical moans
Spinning momentum Gyroscopic
Piston pushing energy growing
Fusion critical brain robotic
Sparks flicker and valves glowing
Peace transformed with electric surge
Violent shudder as chambers purge
All too quick this rest has taken
It is time that I awaken
Quiet sentinels reaching
their swaying arms
in devotion to the light.
Shrouded in darkness.
Cloaked in mist.
They cry out psalms
and glory
to the unseen.
Unerring.
Filled with the power of
true belief.
The universe calls them on.
Coaxing them to stretch
further.
To caress.
To touch.
To nurture.
With the laying on of hands
they purify.
Charging the living energy
with their sacrifice.
Blessed.
They follow the beacon.
The power and
hunger
of that call.
To paradise and eternity.
This great organic temple.
Intertwining carbon latticework
Traversed by delicate
Twisting(ed)
Molecular ladders.
A petulant reminder of its occupant's
Continued existence.
Tiny nickes.
Gashes.
Life-giving crimson rivulets
Cross.
Blend.
Flow.
Driven on by the weakening pulse of the core.
Drops fall.
Sticky onto the hungry earth.
Collecting.
Congealing.
Ashes to ashes.
Dust to Dust.
The Dragon
Beneath the mountain perilous and bare,
Among the twisted trees and razor spines
Where only fools brief, furtive travels dare,
The ancient wyrm upon his gold reclines.
In ages past, his shadow on the sky
Would send the land into a panicked flight.
Today, the dragon's rheumy emerald eye
Relives old conquests long into the night.
Look at the scars upon his iron hide!
They tell the history of a thousand years,
Of fear and flame, of arbalests and spears -
Few creatures breathing still can boast such tales.
His claws caress his loot. His nostrils steam.
The long-forgotten king enjoys his dream.
this is the form of my world
this is the heart of my city
there is fear
in the narrow dark spaces
and light
in the high reaches
and always
there is love
here in the city of my heart
this is the soul of my landscape
there is beauty
in the soft green places
and harshness
in the barren fields
and always
there is peace
here in the landscape of my soul
this is the body of my home
there is safety
in the warm embraces
and comfort
in the secret rooms
and always
there is joy
here in the home of my body
infinite(simal)ly
this singularity
back-warped
self-gravitating
collapsing into my black (w)hole
this eternity
black-wrapped
self-rejecting
expanding ever away from itself
this universe
held within
i have such a lust for some new tats... sigh... anyone offering cash???
cover me in ink
shatter my flesh with the needleblades
and discreetly
carve designs so sweetly
i'll trade red for blue
stitch my flesh with the memorystains
and slowly
mark my body wholly
cover me in hope
seal my flesh with the colourscars
and finally
tattoo my skin divinely
here is my first, don't laugh
A cold silver stream of little fishhook pain, tugging on the fibers of his wrapping.
Slow jellied dams of life painting pretty pictures of memories of the floor.
Cold back jarring floor tiles carry a dreaming prince to safety.
Floating over the ruins of his being.
floating ever more to a happy warm place.
That place that starts as a smelly warmth on his legs.
His head finds a shanks's pillow, cheek pressed against the seat of equality.
Between gasps of breath his gut tells a tale of yesterday's joys.
Time to get up and put on the armour of life, straiten his hair, and pretend to play his part.
Perhaps tomorrow it would not hurt so much.
i am infected
my mind is flooded
my body trembles
as my skin burns
as i freeze
my stomach knots
and my heart stutters
as i give free reign
to this disease
my sheets are tangled
and soaked with sweat
as i am drowned
by fever dreams
an alien presence
invades me now
as i open myself
and release the screams
i am infected...
and i do not want the cure
i need more tattoos... i like this one... i write too much though... btw: this isn't a title... this one's untitled (as usual)
universes of chimerstry
give in to convergency
creating the singularity
uniquely known as me
hand-dance motion
changes one's notion
creating a commotion
in my illusionary ocean
i'm a shimmering shade
in worlds i've made
one cannot evade
your resistance is swayed
so lose one's self in me
unavoidable singularity
your senses in convergency
drowning in my chimerstry
black spears tear from my throat
screaming to the heavens
in their silent hunt
shattering on the skies
raining their disecting shards
upon my naked body
cold caresses leaving warm aftermath
eternally searching
for something just out of reach
a slightly poetic update
19/10/03
waiting
waiting waiting
waiting waiting waiting
for the night
for the secrets that whisper
for things that may not be
clenching
anticipating
quaking
from what's inside
from what's outside
from things you don't know
burst forth
explosive rush
daemon tainted
born from darkness
borne in darkness
secret war
eternal fight
conflict crushed
born from fire
borne in fire
muscle fatigue
dying scars
beauty infliction
born from power
borne in power
gentle kiss
addictive caress
emotion fuelled
born from love
borne in love
this shattered skeleton
stabbing fragments
jagged into the sky
this pustulent sore
weeping effluent
into the healing brine
this ravaging sickness
congesting arteries
driving into the heart
this tortured body
still beautiful
opening for the knife
this scarred survivor
rising up
awesome in her fury
this barren mother
terrible and proud
clutching me to her withered breast
this fucking city.
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