sometimes (a rambling)

[vurtomatic]

sometimes... i'll see a pair of eyes, not really the eyes themselves, but the look in them, that brings me back in time to another pair i know so well.

sometimes... i'll see a sweep of hair in a turn. the hair will fan out and i can see every end dancing in the air and in another time, my hand reaches out to feel them brush me by.

sometimes... i'll be walking and see something in a shop through it's windows... might be a lamp, might be a chair, might be faery lights... and i find myself walking into your room.

sometimes... i'll hear on the wind, a chuckle, a laugh... and i half-turn... and i feel your lips brushing my cheek.

sometimes... a flash of light, a reflection, a trick of light... and i see your face blinding my eyes.

and during these times... my breath catches, my throat and chest tightens, my heart skips and stabs, my eyes burn just that little bit, and the little hurts come in little burts and they encroach crawling sapping laying siege to my wall and... my wall my wall oh it... it trembles it crumbles it it....

i feel once again

sometimes.

 

[plazma]

Its very interesting to read your writing outside of the context of your 'stripped down to the bare bones' style poetry. Your talent certainly is unchanged, and the emotion that fills your work is obvious.

Its hard to pick out a particular section or line for praise, as they seem to flow together in such an interlocking fashion that to pull one piece out and isolate it would remove part of the attraction.

I very much enjoyed reading this.

-plaz out-

 

[neverwas]

*huge arse huggles*

well what can i say...i said it to u numerous amounts of times when we were drunk in the city that i love your writting hun and was waiting to see this peice and definatly wasnt left short at the quality and standard of it.

ur use of visual and touch and the other remote styles of personal sensors is great. i could actually feel myself in this writting as the one creating all those sensors you so easily described. the longingness and heart ache for this person and the enotions they go through are soo easily identified

while the style is a little different to what you normally post it is nothing short of amazing.

another fine peice and one to be proud of babe.

look forard to the next one

-kel

 

[up all night]

This was fantastic. Pure emotion in its finest form.

 

[jakoz]

never stop writing

 

[mr_fluffy]

sometimes vurt's minimalist style makes sense to my slow and unimaginative mind, and at those times i am blown away by his depth of insight, and by his ability to transfer emotion through the written word.

keep it up, you have amazing talent, although i suspect only beggining to be tapped.

 

[vurtomatic]

and sometimes... as i lay myself to sleep, in the dark, i hang there on the edge between worlds. behind my eyes i stand, between sleep and wakefullness i float without a body (and that body is lost as my breathing slows and it comes shorter, harder, shallower) and i undream.

sometimes... in the dark, out of the dark, behind my eyes, i see a shapeless form that shapes itself and yet loses itself, but i recognise your presence as a pair of eyes that tries but fails, to form itself out of the liquid dark. but i know you so well and i try, desperately, to see your face that i have all but forgotten (but for the little tatterred photo i keep in the wallet i keep close to me), ephemeral as our love that once was.

sometimes... there is light, and i find myself breathing you in once again, surrounded by your face. i step back and look, and see the light that is your smile, i hear the breeze so light, that is your laugh, and i know joy and relief... and i know redemption.

sometimes... in the sleepless land of shapeless dark, i kneel on my knees before you. i do not know how but i know my knees touches the ground just as i know you stand before me, shapeless as we are. on my shapeless knees in a land i cannot see, in the dark i can all but feel, the tears are my only reality. on my face they trickle like a crack in my dam, slowly meandering into riverlets, and that is how my face feels, a landscape marked and carved by tears. and i beg, i beseech, i cry for you to stay; but you are, but a shapeless form i cant hold nor grasp... and you stand there in the lightless land, unmoved.

and during these times... in the land between sleep and wakefullness, on the edge between worlds where the wind blows a soul-shuddering cold, my chest hurts my breath comes shallow hard to breathe i cant i gasp i cant i try i cant wake up trapped in this meat this fucking meat i come face to face with the formless dark

as i undream.

 

[neverwas]

its one thing to be able to write amazing peices like you do hun...but to be able to carry them on after the first form is somewhat wonderful.

the structure of the second section/above does not even lack in any way as most sequels or carry ons do. it is pure in heart and lovely in form.

kel