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Are they ready yet, perhaps, maybe? We brush them, straightening syllables,
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yet again october 21,bored
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Her script and words,
the pages filled of a journey,
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so don't salute me
don't tip your hat
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step on through the Gateway
to find out where it goes
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Shhhh. Don't tell on me. 
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Would all that is within it wither and die,
or would it slowly leak out in the tears that I cry?
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without the words to express the reaching out
without the wisdom of a life lived in books
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shadows fall across torn canvas, gold leaf
strange creatures glide by
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The notebook - Black ink painting
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Why is the artist so attracted to the rose? Are we attracted to its thorns?
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Oh how delicate is my sweet muse Her eyes that shine as suns
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Of what is simple and what’s sublime No language can tame in rhyme
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Go forth, inspire, wax fruitful, multiply
in minds of all who inspiration borrow
to turn a phrase which may Time's scythe defy,
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Spellcheck is nothing short of amazing and I, for one, would be utterly lost without it.
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Sell static short, key change, unbattern hatch,
elastic thought, free range, fun pattern match.
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This is just to play on plum phrases hibernating in your brainbox
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by Night FireWolf
34 lines, 2 comments,
on Oct 3 1:10 AM. In love, moon, sex, sexual, make, poem, poetry, writing, erotica, personal
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Perfection sweeping past the night
I feel you here. You feel so right
by Night FireWolf
49 lines,
on Oct 2 3:49 PM. In love, protection, lyrics, song, writing, happy, spiritual, personal, life, sleep
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It was you and me
Our false destiny
by Night FireWolf
61 lines, 8 comments,
on Sep 28 4:20 PM. In change, better, love, breakup, lyrics, writing, poetry, hope, want, knowing
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Eighteenth hour blue sky lies,
her white blanket in patches.
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debt owed the Past, bequeathed to future, closes no doors but leaves posterity to find with open mind the key to light hope's heart.
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Poetic passion here on Earth is met,
choice voices gifts, uplifting words combines.
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Away from ego poet channels verse in secret hope the centuries rehearse some tithe of sentiments both well expressed and pertinent to tomor
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Ectopia Lentis for the poet seems
less rare than nurse’s elbow - malady
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I take my pen
*thoughts swirling around*
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Comprised of lines of white and blue, I’m filled with lines of words.
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A Controlled Response Offered Simply To Incite Curiosity
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What's writ, unshared, falls fallow, horn unheeded,
wit's titbit skits un-aired, seed corn unneeded.
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Where turmoil steam's stream channelled on the boil,
there poet shuffles off [c]old mortal coil.
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Skein poetic weaves life's leaves. One flash
Turns think through ink to stage fulfilling page
As insight steered appears free from force
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Refusing censor's stranglehold,
Your poet chimes rhymes manifold.
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Because I can walk down the street, and no one will see me.
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Is it cramp from the damp as we camp
for excitement removes trace of cramp ?
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Ah, the words of which to express Make me dizzy with all the endless choices.
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Keep open mind for muse enshrined in harmony delightful,
wise tale unwind with words refined, flee far from falsehoods frightful.
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My typewriter's screaming in agony; I can hear it's desperate call
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I write so I can express my feelings
So it doesn't feel so bad.
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Fickle is the poet, In his expression of his [Self],
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