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On one - "His love he did not show".
Nearby - "Though loved, she did not know"
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Dear Albert, Please consider if you're right
in ruling nothing beats the speed of light.
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Don't apologise - it was handy that you're late.
It gave me time to mend the garden gate
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Dear Emily, I write to say
that - having read the news today -
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Three gypsies stood at the Pearly Gate,
Saint Peter, looking out, called "Wait"
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Slap-slap of canvas windbreak.
sunlight seen
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Under a sky of travelling clouds
With the wind in my jacket
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The screen brightens
contrast sharpens
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We're now living in a backyard with the moles
and there's a possum gave our cat a fright.
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Let's raise a can to the drinking man
and the landlords and landladies too.
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Dick Cheney's
insane he's
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Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon,
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Only tumbleweed rides on these rails now.
Only clouds' shadows pass along this way.
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I searched within the nightmare of your mind
to find you cowering - gave you the key
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I have nine gold trophies.
I need 1 more because
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"You ask me if I want to score?
I tell you, man, I'm up to here -
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Sing no songs of love or pleasure
nor to me red roses give.
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Though fallen leaves we use as imagery
of ending - dying - in reality
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Death is naked everywhere -
a prostitute is she.
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My journey has been long, I've wandered far.
Now, in the fading light, I rest and turn
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I stand unsure upon the sands of shifting circumstance.
On the far horizon lies the land, between wide waters dance -
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See how that ballet master, Summer's breeze,
makes the flower garden dance to show
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If the Old Year seems to have lacked rhyme and reason,
and the New Year could be just as bad - or worse,
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(A homage to those old Victorian sentimental ballads - they may not be Art but, sod it, I like 'em)
In years to come, when I am old
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Now that I lose all that I hoped to gain
and stumble through the ruins of my life
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Without hope's oars, adrift on shallow griefs,
and swamped by sudden squalls of doubt and fear,
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The nightmare keeps returning - burning the remains -
there's blood upon the bedspread - red spreads, dries and stains -
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Sunday afternoon in the park in Winter
and a ghost of the empty iron bandstand haunting
by jimmy20johns
29 lines, 58 comments,
on Sep 18 7:02 AM 2007
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The tide of night is taking you away.
Day's shore is fading as you gently drift
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My heart cries "Love's forever. Never to fade or die"
My head says "That's not clever. However loud you cry
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We excavate the past with trowel and spade,
back through yesterday and yesteryear,
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