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 About This Author 
My name is Joy, and I love to write. 
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
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	 Green Peas at Stake  #579761 added April 16, 2008 at 5:51pm Restrictions: None	 
	This Dark Thing (Dew Drop 15) 
	This Dark Thing 
 
                     "I am terrified by this dark thing" 
                                          Sylvia Plath 
 
Dark weaves its web 
at the center of the earth,  
celebrating a black light 
of a certain glow, not so kind, 
changing plain stones to stars 
--all mystery and splendor--  
then to black holes, like a fierce ascetic  
sending vibes, drilling holes in  
your life to turn all your words  
into shrieks, for you lived  
worshiping shadows with  
future diminishing and  
a steel wind in a haste;  
still unfinished,  
you hold up a lamp with  
the flame of your oracle eyes. 
 
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