Tag: poem
group name: blackbirds13
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June 05, 2008 07:25 PM EDT --
About four years ago, while traveling for work in Fairfax, Virginia, I had an epileptic seizure. This wasn't entirely new to me - I had them on a weekly basis as a child, but had not had one since . . . more
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August 04, 2008 07:48 PM EDT --
The best china has deep red roses
painted on delicate stems. It's displayed
in the smoked-glass cabinet, proud on parade,
and the numbers have strayed from six
because . . . more
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February 29, 2008 12:40 PM EST --
This is written for John Beck's Friday Gather Essentials: Writing
Two beings started the journey together
One was lame, other was blind
Blind carried the lame on his shoulders . . . more
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July 25, 2008 06:29 PM EDT --
WATCHING RHINE
It just lies here in its big
curve through Basel
on an early autumn
evening, possibly wanting
to have changed its course
a few times over the years
but maybe not minding . . . more
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December 09, 2007 05:29 PM EST --
for Will Evans, to whom this email poem was addressed
Yesterday was my wife´s saint´s day,
so I was offline and not answering calls
if you called--I don´t think you . . . more
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March 20, 2008 02:15 AM EDT --
sestina
Money for Nothing in Sugarville, Tennessee
On my left hand, I wear a diamond ring,
A gift from my old man, he calls me his sugar.
On my right hand, I wear nothing.
Today the . . . more
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July 29, 2008 11:51 PM EDT --
Sto ope d beneath the weight of years
Flowers dro ope d in veil of tears
Promises co ope d in empty cage
Where futures who ope d with rage.
Ope ns her heart to . . . more
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July 23, 2008 12:06 AM EDT --
She sells sea shells on the sea shore.
Sea swells, she sells sea shells no more.
Sea swells, sea dwellers fading away.
Sea felled sea dwellers, hot air today.
She sold sea . . . more
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May 26, 2006 12:05 AM EDT --
What do we strive for in life?
Is it the most obvious, happiness?
Or, the ever impressive, great looks?
Can you be driven by greed?
Does the thought of power will you to . . . more
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July 08, 2008 01:02 PM EDT --
I forgot to link y'all to this: How To Write a Sestina
Try it, you'll be glad you did.
No one
Can write a poem using two
Hands, a sheet of . . . more
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March 20, 2008 11:23 PM EDT --
All I Ask
All I ask is this:
put it back where you got it.
Yeah, that's it. Simple.
When you're finished, just put it back.
--And I want it in just as good of shape
as when you . . . more
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December 14, 2007 03:56 AM EST --
For Angela Claire Dotson. The first part of this poem was originally titled On The Other Side Of The Sierras. It appeared on Gather on March 19, 2006. I have since added a new free verse section to . . . more
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April 16, 2008 07:03 PM EDT --
Six years and too many hours past,
when one hour's wait was giddy joy,
or fear you'd already left.
We talked and loved 'till we full understood
each other, our lies, . . . more
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March 31, 2008 01:24 PM EDT --
For Padre Flavio Zavala, my first mentor, who taught me a little Spanish, a lot of Latin, how to play chess, and what I needed to know about finding God in the small things.
Plaza . . . more
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August 12, 2008 09:11 PM EDT --
Luck opened doors and played the hand
And carried me to foreign land
And gave me words to understand
But it was only luck.
Luck restored the failing child
And calmed . . . more
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November 22, 2007 02:31 AM EST --
Picking raspberries in your mother's
garden, I confess I wasn't thinking
of berries, delicious though they were, my mind
was on the softness of your lips
one night long ago when I . . . more
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February 08, 2008 02:23 AM EST --
(this poem is in response to John Beck's article .)
Finding Joy
One of these mornings,
she won't wake up.
Sometime . . . more
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October 15, 2007 10:05 PM EDT --
Trying to work on my poerty again. Feel free to give positive feedback or advice.
We Were More
There was More to us than rags
More than poor
More than struggle
day in . . . more
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March 07, 2008 08:58 AM EST --
In a hurry to reach
we do not love the joy of long journeys.
It is better to travel than to arrive
is no more true
the truth is
we should grab everything . . . more
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August 11, 2008 09:45 AM EDT --
even crashing of thew waves
matches the slow passing off my days
the joyous shriking of children
opposite my many sin
the glaring sun beating down
matches my world oh so turned around . . . more
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