Tag: poem

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I spent my youth Away from Home. Wishing my friends Were sisters of my own. I didn’t like family. Dangerous love. Beat up and tortured, Push comes to shove. We lived in the country, Away from town. If there are no neighbors, Does abuse make a sound? My heart goes back To that scary place.…




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Apr 17

Ill

When you have no fear of hell Because you’re already in it, When you’re: Sick And tired Of living inside this minute. When you pray for heaven And hold on for the night, When you’re: Done And wasted, Dying to end this fight. Knuckle down. Swing away. Beat the devil. It’s still your play. When…




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  Homologous humanity, cleaved by pedantic disagreements. The newel of our rise, splintered. Coronal citizens take all. The deprived tucked away in a credenza, not to be opened or seen. Calcareous lines divide. A precarious road, to come together. All in the same pannier, on this planet earth. A happier world, if we learned to…




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Apr 15

LoveBird

Someone said it was National Poetry Month? So. I wrote this several weeks ago. Love flew in my window last night. Stretched his wings out wide and came to rest upon my heart. Feathered up all his sumptuous sweet breath And called awareness to his sound. Come close, Love. Sing your soft song down my…




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These past few months have been some the most emotionally charged moments of my life. One is never truly ready or prepared to lose a parent or loved one. As my Aunt Adrienne said to me just the other day, “It’s as if a light had gone out in the world”. Such a perfect explanation…




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BayArt - New Perspective on Life
Apr 8

Infra

  Gone are balmy days. The jungles canon now applies. ‘DO NOT PASS’ reads the sign. We are not precocious minds. Olfaction overwhelmed on entry. Burry plants scratch and, sting. A souse of sweat, flowing free. The itinerant pair are not prepared. No place for eiderdowns, no point to harangue. They must find the jungles…




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  Taught expeditiously, to trill and, squawk. The reveille rings at 4 o’clock. Another day of genuflection, to the corpulent, boreal lords. Canvassing the favour of gewgaws. Remain phlegmatic and dream of vernal shores. An axiomatic life. Doff the uniform, end the strife. I am rancorous. Trapped in a seine, I feel the Quahogs pain. Supercilious…




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  She is a scurrilous one. Artless and fistulous. Vaunted for everything she does. Not the amative type, luxe is her way. I did not take her for a proselyte. Finding God, she takes the sacerdotal rights. A flume of spirituality. A reprobate personality, no more. No more feints to stay alive. No more feeling…




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If only I were a better writer; I would weave alphabets and make words out of thin air words that can reflect; what you mean to me and show you how much I care If I could sing sonnets of our love and ballads of the wonderful times If I could pour my heart out…




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BayArt - New Perspective on Life
Apr 5

At Home

  These times are strange, when we walk on by. People suffering for a new lease on life. Is it too much to ask, to turn a new stone? With our values intact, and a straightened back, we can think of our own. Life for light. I’ll give you all I have, if I could…