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- This topic has 500 replies, 34 voices, and was last updated 11 years, 3 months ago by
kerbdogma.
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September 29, 2004 at 9:01 am #72886
I sit across
The table from you
Sipping my wine
And remember
For the love of life
All in due timeSeptember 30, 2004 at 6:18 pm #72887in the middle
of
the night
a screech owl
xounds l
ike a cross
between someone
whistling and
a little girl screamingOctober 7, 2004 at 4:24 am #72888being so without seeing so
much to things without wings.
ebbing dough without feeling flow
forever on this darn endevor.
basking while tasking takes me to the trouble
times always rhymns so go to bed smile i said.
good day but still i play with words so
sad it makes me mad more than you think.
drink is fun but like a drum
beats better be in sync.October 17, 2004 at 2:55 am #72889edge of the page
ledge of my rage
to the top
before i pop
goes who nose
need nor heed
where’d i read
a better feed?October 17, 2004 at 12:52 pm #72890Pop rock ripper
Time to go
So sad, I know
Leaving a slipperAt midnight
Or on Hollow’s Eve
Give me a call, baby,
Let’s talk about it
Let’s grieveTime withers
When none approaches
Beneath the latter
Climbs a boaSlithers, streams
Leaves its skin
At cold temperatureOctober 21, 2004 at 9:52 am #72891When woman who gives care
Is taken away
Dirty shock
Do not play
Do not mix
Do not behead
This will not wash
The blood will not wash
Dagger’s use is
I will slice your throats
And squash your hearts
And not feel anything
At all
I would not care if you diedOctober 24, 2004 at 6:05 am #72892ready from a steady haunt
like only but wish won want
give gun staunt resistance in self
but available always on shelf
choices are our most voices
varied and so scaried
sacred secure so they say
seems just the other day
someone frowned from unearned dismay.October 28, 2004 at 3:37 pm #72893Fat cats and the underclass
Staring at the broken glassThe Bullweaver wearing a musket
Sipping moonage Summertime teaClimbing Mount-Doom
Rocks cut, break, delete the debrisCloaks in the smoking room
Breath, licks, clashing in the skyDashes great pink & white marble
Settles then struggles
Within insipid riptidesCross bows & broken arrows
Land sews
Covets fool’s goldOctober 31, 2004 at 12:00 pm #72894A kiss in the kitchen
Now, nothing to mention
I remembered when
You were in love, ageing,
Or at least, tried to.
Now untuned, broken, spilled
Turned anew
Shaping into a form
Of tried and true
Former years have subsided
and completely divided
Can’t remember
What wasNovember 7, 2004 at 11:09 pm #72895when we were walking
our feet felt like talking
leaves scatter along
singing our song
wishie washie
mushey masheyi’ll be seven before i’m in heaven
given my pace at this inner space
saved for silence shared while
waiting as other standards dared
dream away this perfect day
damn i feel like a villian
rather simple so fillin’
up down and all around
ask me never need be clever
clear or even dear during
dreay weather or not hot
house hopes harm hurt folks.November 8, 2004 at 11:24 am #72896Heathen’s Burden
The barometer squints
Heavy clouds scatter
Lithe green moss
Given a good toss
Nowhere near
Leaves truncate
Wind weaves a titter
Snow breaks the frost
While birds feed on cold seeds
Mountain tops’ frozen tropes
The blizzard gallopsNovember 10, 2004 at 12:22 am #72897glides but never slides
when lonsome always hides
hoping or hopping
hope not copping
droping in, like flynn
the theatre
bet best to meet her
first thirst turns
while others burnNovember 13, 2004 at 3:07 pm #72898Ripe for stripes
Stripes strike
In the middle of the night
Convoys, land mines, ground attacks
Food has arrived
Some by rotted sack
Here’s some bread
But we might exchange your life
For it instead
a fair fight
A democratic decree
To what degree
Vote for me, vote for meNovember 24, 2004 at 11:59 am #72899Fossils
Fuel debate
Over hackneyed rape
Machines clone gossip
Closing the gap
Giant cinder claws
Mount fires
Persons/Objects
The same
Valued
As Personal Objects
Rights of some
Are objects of othersNovember 25, 2004 at 3:14 am #72900giving thanks four score and seven
seems so long ago, a dream i regret
to show some but bum others out.
We stole our country.
The last empire is US.
sad that no one cares
more than second stares.
I’ll eat the turkey but feel real jerky.
In the end i die a friend of hope
without shame i blame no one but me. -
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