https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/category-1111-sun en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Wed, 10 Jun 2026 07:29:00 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8457-found-in-fields-of-grass https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8457-found-in-fields-of-grass A woman is haunted by memories of her lover Celticlion Poetry Sat, 03 May 2008 00:01:43 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8457 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8457 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8457 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8283-spying-on-twilight-night-and-dawn https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8283-spying-on-twilight-night-and-dawn   Finding myself within a wrinkle edging Twilight's eye, I watched time's hidden grey revealed in shapes that fell where ending day lay fading half-asleep beneath her lidded violet gaze.   Night's waiting well; sun's surface burned to drink, but depth kept darkness cold in velvet's deep. The murmuring thread of Twilight's tongue languidly drew up well's bottom, black filling her cupped hands of mist with inky shadows, rising wet to stain her thirsty lips.   The peering sky bent down to taste her mouth, and all made dark for lovers who must make ... more Celticlion Poetry Sat, 26 Apr 2008 18:08:36 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8283 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8283 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8283 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8365-black-dog-on-hill https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8365-black-dog-on-hill   My dog pants on hill, whirlygig ears drooling down dead yellow snap grass of brittle heat beneath his belly.   My papers won't flutter like a whore's petticoats, but lie still, trembling virgins. They don't fool me.     It's only poetry.     They don't care  for my strange invisible sweaty distortions stuffed inside a homemade kaleidoscope twisting ‘til fisted bits burst like mythogies pulsed in a blender, pieces I then strain through the holes in my mind's tongue and spit back out asking, is it good? ... more Celticlion Loom Sat, 26 Apr 2008 13:11:17 GMT /section-579-loom#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8365 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8365 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8365