violins

Discussion in 'Poetry Realm' started by Coup d'état, Mar 20, 2012.

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  1. Coup d'état

    Coup d'état Don't believe the hype

    Joined:
    Jun 19, 2009
    Messages:
    4,096
    Sixteen harmonic pins
    Sixty-four hertz blown up over sonic wind
    A monsoon of, maybe a sensory shift
    Sick of your certain heritage
    As dust is to dust or fore four horsemen carrying carriages

    And

    Sixteen violins
    Sixty-four chords puttin' miles in
    Plucked in my ears; as in my mind before medicine


    **
    Look into my eye
    The whites are turned to wine
    You have nowhere else to go
    Your pupils are siphons
    Drawin' breath from song
    The music is wanton
    Playing sad, sad violins
    Of new requiems fermenting
    Poured in old barrels

    I have an escape plan
    The door is nothing but an exit wound


    .
    test
  2. patrown

    patrown student for life

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    Dec 5, 2011
    Messages:
    1,178
    hah th is went to immortal technique - point of no return pretty well when i was reading it.

    sick flow coup.
    test
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