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Late night meandersShe tethers herself to her chair,
Her fingers hovering over the keys
And waits for the moment to type
What she feels, what she sees
When she goes
The lights in the house are dim
They\'re darkest at midnight, you know
Humming quietly overhead
Even the computer screen glows
She leans forward
The night sighs heavily
With a deafening air,
Pouring forth behind the glass
Seemingly brought of nowhere
Her hands are free
Clicking clicking clicking
Resounds, sweet melody of solitude
And the poem is born
It was the Popcorn
\"It was the popcorn!\" He cried to no one in particular, pointing accusingly at the bag.
But the jury did not believe. A day and a half passed before anyone even allowed the things brought forward to be discussed. When they were, a heated argument ensued.
One man with a reddened face slammed his hand down on the long, shining tabletop and glared at his companions. \"Popcorn cannot kill a man!\" He declared.
\"No, but it can kill or severely damage the brain cells of a man, causing him to slowly go insane.\" It was a young Brit named Loyd of about twenty years, who sat back in his black cushioned chair while idly twirling a ballpoint pen i
Epitaph for a Stranger
I know not how you lie....
The winter grows old and weeps its white lead
Do you remember dead trees and quarrelsome magpies?
Still, the earth is tired, and tired every day
The loathsome kill of frosty betrayal
Makes the bones ache and the tiny green roots
Tucked far below long for new days
Shall I write a bittersweet memory?
Would your stone carry your weight in anectdotes
Half forgotten on pages of time
Countless hours you spent in bed before getting up
Yet I was the same... huddling in my own warmth
Those mornings, we never thought about them
They happened, and there was nothing more to them
The moonlight show
Gone for a Promise
The king on his deathbed
He sent for the troubadour
A search was set, but to no avail
He couldn\'t sing no more
My soul\'s been black,
The words all bad
My song is dead
Rather be gone than shallow
He said again
So I\'m packing up,
He left for a promise then.
Here on Planet Elvis
You said you wish you saw that band
The one that took the world
Fame written across that hand
Well here\'s some bad news
For all you lovers,
Death comes quickly
To the martyrs.
Ya travel long and weary
Down this road
A map of sunshine
Looking for life\'s secret gold
Along the silver way
Led by laughter and promises,
You wander for yo
Do Not ListenDo not listen to the swell and fall
Of the gentle sea as it sings
The last remnant of Iluvatar\'s song calls
Hear it in the cry of the gulls
And you\'ll be gone; Like them, taken wing.
The boats await on the shores
Grey as the towering clouds before rain
There, the Flowering Foam moors
She creaks and bows with ageless mast
Whispering, \"The old ones cannot remain.\"
Farewell to the mountains of ancient tale,
And to lake, the sky, beloved forest.
No more, Beleriand, all gone to sail...
People of light, harken to sea and lo!
Final welcome Haven in the True-West
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More