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What if the moonlight never comes?
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But ice cream and cake is for wimps
anyway, you think as your lungs
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Sit and watch my hip hopscotch
Hitting like a speaker box
Speak a lot
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only love can break your heart and only loneliness can freeze your soul
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Sticks and stones
May break my bones
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Say good night to the fairies,
The twisted thanes of yester years,
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my life is on pause and every heartbeat on repeat
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River's marsh hems eddy and sway -
by simone waters
49 lines, 7 comments,
on May 8 11:49 PM. In Nature, nature, Life, Spiritual, Zen, Sunset, Water, Contemplative, Rivers
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My writing is not who I am;
it is only what I have left behind.
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Light womblike warm, tangerine tinted as if passing through skin...
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To recall what never was...
How odd it is. It never was.
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What is a fly at night?
- asleep
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Midnight muse swirl of smoke
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"Dabbling pointless picayune,
of vigorous thinking all a strewn."
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Crowded May mist...
sparkling mirror lights
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Philosopher dies, Electric flesh,
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What is a need? Everything has them
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the wilted flowers line the unkempt patio. the unread book sleeps in its case.
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I saw an angel in the rain...
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I look into the mirror,
Knowing not how long the glass has held my eye...
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It's always winter in my heart...
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How can I know, what can I feel, but sorrow, sorrow, sorrow—
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so here i am thinking of the past
as sand slowly slides through the hour glass
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I was made for Rock and Roll
Upfront center moshing, strangers too close, surroundings black as coal
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This morning the rain reminded me of the simple, but deep musings of the old Asian masters, thus, something quiet came forward . . .
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The rise and fall Of night and day
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It's funny when people run around
talking about this and that
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A wild wilderness?
A pool of raindrops?
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Woke up today
From a vivid dream
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I wrote this in a weird mood, but interesting.
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Going until I am spent,
around this circle.
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the hearth carries no flame
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Staring at the full moon hoping that its beauty be the enchantment that mends my mind.
days go by and friends i used to know just smile and wave good bye.
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a sharp buzz, snap, crackle,
the confused search between the waves
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Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.
You were dreaming of the days the dreams were better.
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Seems to be something missing from this poem. Comments and/or suggestions on a title?
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It seems that lately I have been slinging words, like seeds, on the ground during a driving rainstorm
From out of my soul words that have been very hard wrought
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The girl the woman the she the her
I don't understand her whys her hows
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Today quite unexpectedly
I visited every corner of your triangle
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I wonder if you ever think of me.
You come to my mind occasionally.
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