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I stopped my bicycle to see
A tableau quite unknown to me
by Lady Gray
15 lines, 2 comments,
on Jul 5 9:35 AM 2008
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Don't you honey-baby-sugar-sweetheart me-
that's not my name -- Why can't you see
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give me ruby beautiful
give me emerald fine
by Lady Gray
24 lines,
on May 28 3:51 PM 2008
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And where do all the soldiers go,
the white stones marching in rank and file
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a sharp buzz, snap, crackle,
the confused search between the waves
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This poem does not belong to me anymore.
This poem stopped belonging to me
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Today is not a day for salads
for wimping out or going home.
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I will build thee a bower of stars and summer winds...
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Pile the bodies, and pile them high make them a mountain, up to the sky
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Scene: 1916, Trenches of France. James has called home to talk with his girl.
Dear James, it's good to hear you-I never thought you'd call
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I've often seen the funeral pass
under my window pane
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It is down near Cutter's creek/where the rain falls dark and bleak/ where there runs a rutted cowpath call the Snake..
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The paper moon is rising and the birds have all been fed
The little children sleep within their soft and cozy bed
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They have come and set upon me
in this holy house of stone
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the wind tapped at my windowpane, for he is apt to talk
we spoke about the schoolyear, and the abscence now of chalk
by Lady Gray
8 lines, 5 comments,
on Jun 4 8:02 AM 2006. In Sad
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this is the garden of unused dreams
the place where failures grow
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we're living to fight and we're fighting to die
we never give hello but only goodbye
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There are no more worthwile wars to be fighting,
books to be reading or stars to be sighting,
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i cannot speak
and so i end
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he had sent her dreams and shadows
he had sent her stars and air
by Lady Gray
10 lines, 5 comments,
on Feb 22 8:08 AM 2006. In Love
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My knees are made of granite
and my legs are made of lead
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Hulann Battore, Hulann Battore
City of legend, City of lore
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i am a wandering minstrel, i roam from town to town
the heavens are my waistcoat, the green earth is my gown
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It's been a long time since I've written
I hope this letter finds you well
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I am affianced to silence
I am promised to the dark
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I went and found myself a pond
and sat upon its side
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He stands there, on the burning deck
it's beams awash with sun
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I'm living in a body too young for me with a head too old
thoughts up here are turning heartless and cold.
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The sun rose over the hill that day,
lighting the fields and fresh mown hay
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A faded, grizzled, yellowed page
the contents of a now since passed on age
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Once upon a wonderyear when I was young and free
It was the year of teachers and the teachers numbered three.
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The skyscrapers
From the horizon
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How I wish I were a lion
on a desert wide and hot
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