iPod

Member since 2002 · Posted 25 Jul 2007 · 3 comments

The buds grow into my ears, Creeping their shoots between brain and cranium, Filling my vessels with silvery xylem, Shutting my eyelids like sated flytraps. Even my heart is flowered and firred, My thoughts are wooded, my breath has leaves. Music was once for the joy of the masses; Now it makes me a forest Forbidden to man.

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4 votes so far. Yours would make 5.4 votes so far

3 comments

[n/a] ==Doylum 28-Jul-07/7:29 AM Reply

Did you write this after listening to radio four? they said something similar the other day.

[7] richa 31-Jul-07/2:10 PM Reply

They don't really get between your brain and cranium do they. 'Filling my vessels with silvery xylem' and 'My thoughts are wooded, my breath has leaves.' aren't particularly strong metaphors imo.

[n/a] ==Doylum › richa 1-Aug-07/5:27 AM Reply

No they go in your ears don't they?!