Category Archives: Poetry

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I notice flaws in others as I move around – I see my friends grow old and stout, my relatives relapse. I would improve the lots of most I love – I have no doubt my cure is best; my … Continue reading

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Flux

I used to sleep so well and heal so fast, and what was then I thought would still be now, for I’m as much myself as I was last December 31st. I don’t know how the hour hand that I … Continue reading

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Oyster

A trespasser insinuates its grit through corrugated portals. So it’s gone and ever will; the sand is infinite as insects, inexorable as dawn. The host is irritated and reacts by isolating, coating, adding size until that laminate through cataracts of … Continue reading

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Tigridia

The metal railing warm against my hand where sunlight silvers it, and striping cool beneath the shade, I fully understand: Such education doesn’t need a school. The turn of leaves of birch upon the breeze, that captures green as sequins … Continue reading

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Dim

I always thought that as I added years in life and lumps in limbs and folds in face, so I would increase wisdom too, and fears would fade and patience grow and I’d learn grace. Then anger wouldn’t rule my … Continue reading

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Advice Revised

My father tried his best and didn’t fail at parenthood. He listened and advised, took time for us and pointed out a trail for us, and told us lessons he devised. He missed a trick or two he should have … Continue reading

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Inventions

Illusion is the television’s art. Ten thousand pixels listen currently and make their light emissions blink apart but link themselves like cells apparently: Befooling brains with signals to our eyes, enhancing with the audio in sync, and now we learn … Continue reading

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Birds of a Feather

Their timbre irritates my ears, as high as if they sucked on helium for air. They poultry-hop their happiness to spy each other in a crowd. Too quick they share their girlish hopes, romantic fancies, dirt, collapsing into silliness so … Continue reading

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The Traveler

He says he loves to travel for the new impressions, foreign cultures, ethnic arts. His mind is stimulated by each view he photographs. He’s speaking as he darts from site to site arranging flights and stays at charming B&Bs, selecting … Continue reading

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On Reading of the Future

… In a Comic Book 20 Years Old I read a Richie Rich the other night: A story run in 1973 that had an uncle travel to the bright occasion of the coming century which seemed approaching slowly surely then … Continue reading

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