Mandred "Julien" Moore III
March 16, 1977 — December 18, 2008
He lives through his poetry
Nature is a temple in which living columns sometimes emit confused words. Man approaches it through forests of symbols, which observe him with familiar glances.
~Charles Baudelaire
- Last seen on Jul 21 3:35 PM. Member since September 26, 2008.
- I'm a obsidian idea poet for 579 comments.
- When I'm not writing, I'm a chainsmoking thought criminal.
- I support the site as a silver member
- I have 579 comments, 6 contests, 70 poems
Poems I'm focused on
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22 lines, 14 comments, November 21, 2008. In Terza Rima, Sonnet
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27 lines, 9 comments, November 20, 2008. In Villanelle
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25 lines, 19 comments, November 19, 2008. In Villanelle
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26 lines, 20 comments, November 16, 2008. In Villanelle
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37 lines, 10 comments, November 15, 2008. In Terzanelle
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15 lines, 7 comments, November 13, 2008. In Sonnet
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14 lines, 10 comments, November 9, 2008
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8 lines, 11 comments, October 30, 2008. In Triolet
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24 lines, 7 comments, October 29, 2008. In Villanelle
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24 lines, 25 comments, October 21, 2008. In Villanelle
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15 lines, 20 comments, October 1, 2008. In Sonnet
My Poetry
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16 lines, 1 comment, November 26, 2008
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15 lines, 6 comments, November 26, 2008. In Sonnet
Guest Book
1 - 4 of 4
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vaseline on July 17
you are remembered -
Kari on July 15I will miss you.
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reage : vale sparrow on July 14
these nights, the moon demands an answer
and if I am holy I howl into the void
for all parched angels who insist on stars
from shattered blood and gutter glass outside bars
where dreams are real for a price, for a while
and music taunts a fool's fandango
where the grim grappling for hope may meet
a breast, a buttock, a sweet fleet recall
of all the fleshy pleasures; where plunged
and plugged into them, mounting revelation
you are shown somehow you are already there
here, everywhere and always have been
maid, mother, crone, knave, knight, king
this is the world; sing back at the moon
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just mercedes : stolen from ea's page on October 25, 2008
VIVA FUI IN SILVIS
SUM DURA OCCISA
SECURI DUM VIXI TACUI
MORTUA DULCE CANO
I was alive in the forest
I was cut by the cruel axe
In life I was silent
In death I sweetly sing
~ an inscription on the face
frets of an Elizabethan lute
