Author: Thom

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it is in a word, a phrase, expressed in silence when suddenly out loud, speaks to reality, speaks enough for one to hear, to listen, to wait for that moment, a suggestion of clarity, caught in a night sky, when only alone one might listen to the gentle breeze, a calm reminder of a life…

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We are at a crossroads, a don’t look, stop staring – retribution of a gender explosion holds no safeguards,   Remember that time when we created, the worst part of life is knowing, not wanting, that was the error in judgment, the need today, far different than any single man, any single woman, any single…

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If not for the power of greed, Have I been a loose cannon of need. – If only while our world crumbles beyond, We still might use laughter to carry on. – If well before the dawn of new civilization, Would we still use ignorance to define a nation. – If while this short time…

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I forget, I react, I overload, Symptomatic of a torn life I suppose. – A lot of years ago I wouldn’t imagine, The powerful grip this past might hold. – I’ve taught the voices of the future, Passed on wisdoms and second nature. – Though I suppose from the glass you see, I’m a regular…

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We have these, call them, whatever you might preference at the moment. An epiphany, a catharsis, a smack in the face in expression, the reality of our lives. – Just when the seasons began to express their natural beauty, the leaves that decay to a certain brilliance, representing death and love all the same, Crisp…

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While we ran the backyards, the slow walk through the dandelions pollened by summer’s bees, we did think alone, the same way we, the same notions, we may have today, the same wonderment of the psychological nature, compels our being, causes our heart to swoon, allows for the time to stand still, we can all…

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When life begins we all depend on love A certain peace, a luxury above. All else that matters cries out loud to hear The blessed virtue of our calm so near. With heart and soul speak of tribulation For every breath gasp a solemn nation. The triggers of our psych’e common known Will always capture…

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If while our lives motor along, we could wonder about what might be real, if we might recall the vision, we recalled when wanting to wander, would we wish upon a clever clarity. – We wanted this, said to ourselves, while the skies blurred our memory, always positioning ourselves to carry on, to carry on,…

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It is when we want to cry, the sound will not come, its expanse, fills our lungs to capacity, short breaths, quiet realities, keeps us moving through a storm, taking a moment, a gasp, yet still there is a desire to find more, know a place we might settle in, get perspective, develop a plan,…

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When I was a child, crossing the street meant an afternoon, a forever setting, in a cloudless sky. It meant things attainable, like pebbles nearby a pond, we could jump in if we cared, smell like the seaweed and algae. – When I was a kid, the street no longer mattered, there were now tire…