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1987A is a supernova that occurred "next door" to our galaxy and had it happened in our "house" on February 23, 1987, no one would be readi
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golden arches on a broad field of red, lie abandoned in ditches and gutters,
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Great Fixer-Upper Ideal second-home.
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We chase hopeless dreams all our lives, and the "hopeless dreams" become the essence of our lives.
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After the crowd has gone,
and the lights are dimmed-out;
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It takes a lot, to defend what you got!
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Never listen to thoughts that come after midnight...!
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The last poem I wrote for my third wife before her death in 2006.
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I was there when the crimson sumac turned burgundy;
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Ride the season's tide of Highway Ten,
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To say anything would be longer than the poem!
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Three verses for the price of a single click,...something to do on a lifeless Monday!
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Title is a euphemism for the "white man's city".
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My father never said, get a hold of yourself; but I do!
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tenacious autumn cling to the end of bare limbs
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Like REDUNDANCY this whole effort is a mass of cliches, mistakes beginners make. it's intention is not to make fun, but a warning: Don't
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The essence of Life is struggle; no matter how big or how small, all species of Life must
prove its viability.
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Sometimes, we have to get away from everything and everybody; even if it's breaking
precious rules.
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Dreams are a part of native american spirituality and prophesy; without dreams, there
is no future.
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In Santa Fe, if it's cheap, it ain't real: The shops will gouge you and the place is flooded
with MADE IN CHINA, MADE IN JAPAN, trinkets.
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Perhaps, she lived a dangerous life filled with negotiable rules and regulations; maybe a thief of some sort, but when I met my mother-in-l
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I am surrounded by bright rainbow
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The stone sculpture I became was not kneaded and molded
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Sometimes, I feel these words are too true...!
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Inspired by my self-made philosophy as an orphan in boarding school. Education is fine, in its place; but, there's a wide world out there.
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Punishment in boarding school was a process; waiting for that day, perhaps a week, then it was called, SATURDAY MORNING PARTY; and the invi
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Memories can be heaven and hell; forgetting is damnation!
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Beautiful country in northern New Mexico. Been there three times, but never tired of its stark beauty!
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This effort began as a love poem, but the more rewrites it undergoes, the creepier it gets...!
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Liken this to "...I'm a poet and didn't know it...!" I just blurted it out at a party and remembered it the next day!
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