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David Ruaune Blog: December 2008
http://davidruaune.blogspot.com/2008_12_01_archive.html
Sunday, 7 December 2008. My lady has a unicorn,. That lives on dreams alone;. She brings him roses with silver thorns,. He sleeps on the courtyard stones. He drinks of glassy waters,. And walks her pathless lawns,. Waiting for the sun to set,. Then waiting for the dawn. My lady has an orchard. Where the apples never fall -. The sun through leaves is cool and green. And shines on one and all. The season never changes;. The weather is always fine,. The birds that sing see everything,. My lady has a unicorn.
davidruaune.blogspot.com
David Ruaune Blog: May 2007
http://davidruaune.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html
Monday, 28 May 2007. The Language-Tree of the Feral Child. I broke the surface, ranged antennae bright,. Limbs of quicksilver eagerly outstretched,. And waited. Just be patient; they will come. Stay ready to interpret. Surface to depth. This is the time, by rights, they should be here,. Marching the night in rank – I dread I’m deaf. Or broken. I will try harder. I can hear. I scour for sense, drill deep, crack meaning’s bone,. Fine-comb for syntax strands of howling noise. Darkened to baffled horror.
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David Ruaune Blog: Brokenbrow and Havenhand
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Sunday, 27 May 2007. 8220;Brokenbrow and Havenhand”. Brass-plated, fixed upon the door. One phrase the two, yet seldom seen. Together now, for many a year. Brokenbrow, the elder partner,. All must pass; He will not smile -. Furrowed in subtlety, each year harsher,. Sharp as a paper-cut, never still. Beneath the tomes of precedent. Old Brokenbrow would pace the floor. Whilst outside in the cold and snow,. Havenhand failed to help the poor. But who’d have thought – look to the bar! Revenge Of The Rose.
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David Ruaune Blog: July 2008
http://davidruaune.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html
Saturday, 19 July 2008. Two angels come to visit me;. Their voices weave each passing hour -. One says that all there is, is love;. One says that all there is, is power. Their branches twine the star-pierced sky,. Their roots the granite rock below;. And which the fiercer devil is,. I guess I’ll never know. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile. Watermark theme. Powered by Blogger.
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David Ruaune Blog: Two Angels
http://davidruaune.blogspot.com/2008/07/two-angels.html
Saturday, 19 July 2008. Two angels come to visit me;. Their voices weave each passing hour -. One says that all there is, is love;. One says that all there is, is power. Their branches twine the star-pierced sky,. Their roots the granite rock below;. And which the fiercer devil is,. I guess I’ll never know. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Watermark theme. Powered by Blogger.
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David Ruaune Blog: Favourite poems by other people
http://davidruaune.blogspot.com/2007/06/favourite-poems-by-other-people.html
Friday, 25 May 2007. Favourite poems by other people. I will be adding some comments on the poems below soon, but for now simply include them as favourites. Anyone lived in a pretty how town. By e e cummings. Anyone lived in a pretty how town. With up so floating many bells down). Spring summer autumn winter. He sang his didn't he danced his did. Women and men(both little and small). Cared for anyone not at all. They sowed their isn't they reaped their same. Sun moon stars rain. Sleep wake hope and then).
davidruaune.blogspot.com
David Ruaune Blog
http://davidruaune.blogspot.com/2008/12/unicorn-my-lady-has-unicorn-that-lives.html
Sunday, 7 December 2008. My lady has a unicorn,. That lives on dreams alone;. She brings him roses with silver thorns,. He sleeps on the courtyard stones. He drinks of glassy waters,. And walks her pathless lawns,. Waiting for the sun to set,. Then waiting for the dawn. My lady has an orchard. Where the apples never fall -. The sun through leaves is cool and green. And shines on one and all. The season never changes;. The weather is always fine,. The birds that sing see everything,. My lady has a unicorn.
davidruaune.blogspot.com
David Ruaune Blog: Revenge Of The Rose
http://davidruaune.blogspot.com/2007/05/revenge-of-rose.html
Monday, 28 May 2007. Revenge Of The Rose. Who first made of me emblem, doomed me thus;. Early bloom, suitors pluck impatiently. Stems like helpless arms, raised up, aghast,. Give no protection. The gift of my little death. Works wonders, means he means it, seals the deal. False hearts or true, all take too easily –. Blossoms; too open a face, that sets aflame;. A heart come apart, wrecked rupture, inside out. Thorn cannot save me, yet if rude hands, too sure,. And whether I die for true love or pretend,.
davidruaune.blogspot.com
David Ruaune Blog: The Language-Tree of the Feral Child
http://davidruaune.blogspot.com/2007/05/language-tree-of-feral-child.html
Monday, 28 May 2007. The Language-Tree of the Feral Child. I broke the surface, ranged antennae bright,. Limbs of quicksilver eagerly outstretched,. And waited. Just be patient; they will come. Stay ready to interpret. Surface to depth. This is the time, by rights, they should be here,. Marching the night in rank – I dread I’m deaf. Or broken. I will try harder. I can hear. I scour for sense, drill deep, crack meaning’s bone,. Fine-comb for syntax strands of howling noise. Darkened to baffled horror.
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