

Glimpse in a Puddle of RainThe sidewalk passed under me. I walked alone.Glimpse in a Puddle of Rain
I saw an echo of a foreign land strange synesthesia in a pool of rain:
a tree's reflection - mystic and a-shine, new-like, sharply etched in hyper-life.
Golden from the cloudy glow of streetlights' beam made strange,
I sought a glimpse of liquid dreams, of something beyond simple sight.
What is the way I go to seek, to walk this light to freedom and to faith?
If something in the ninth dimension, curled at my feet in mist - I did not see.
But somewhere in its


Post-Modern HomeworkThe cat slips up to the windowsill, moves the shade to pour a wet streak of winter light across my book.Post-Modern Homework
Aha! I say to myself - the post-modernists are illuminated.
It is not about words, I muse, it is about the light of artistic creation or some other narcissistic jazz.
The cat turns his head, disdaining, goes to get a drink. This, he already knows.


Poets DyingMillay sat down the porch, sighed, and departed, the warm sunshine competing against the cooling of her flesh.Poets Dying
Rexroth though, he went out in a cascade of sparks, the heart monitor blazing as his flame was snuffed
I’m sure Williams was staring fiercely watching the window for a sign: his most important image. And likely, Whitman merely drifted away, opening his arms, at last able contain the world.
And Barryman? Well, it takes a lot of talent to leap from a bridge and not hit the Mississippi River


Please Don't Tell MePlease don’t tell me you’re a poet. Oh please, oh please Please don’t say you’ve written poetryPlease Don't Tell Me
There is nothing less charming than a poet Standing all in black outside my door Beret just so, Tinted glasses far down the nose.
Oh please, don’t be a noticeable poet Stuffing your wail-wet papers under my door
I don’t know what a poet is Or who you are supposed to look like But I know you bother me
In the same way that A knife, scratched the thousandth time over pale paper and drawing blood to flow down weeping cheeks In a dark ho
Devious Comments
I hope things are going well down in BG.
...
I'll just... go and feel stupid now...
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Critics will grumble. Of course they will. That's one of the functions of critics. As an artist it's your job to give them ulcers, and perhaps even something to get apoplectic about. -- Neil Gaiman
I is very much appreciated
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______________________________ ______
Don't follow the herd - be yourself!
THE dA BESTIARY
I is very much appreciated
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______________________________ ______
Don't follow the herd - be yourself!
THE dA BESTIARY
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If you use meter, or would like to learn, please drop by!
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Metrical poets of the world: Unite!
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Proud Supporter of Eberron
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...how do you do it, be not overwhelmed by a violet sky…?
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mimesis, the poetry journal
Buy Mimesis issue one here.
Buy Mimesis issue two here.
That's a really rare thing with me. I seem to be really picky.
Keep writing!
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"Here's to you and here's to me
I pray that friends we'll always be,
But if by chance we disagree,
The heck with you and here's to me!"-Irish Toast
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A picture, like a human, will speak a thousand words, and never say a goddamn thing.
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"Remember where you came from, where you're going and why you created the mess you got yourself into in the first place"
richard bach
# is a General Poet
# is Female
# is a deviant since Jan 20, 2004, 8:29 PM
# has 100 pageviews
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If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If - Rudyard Kipling
I have a few more Matrix-related stuff to stick up, I just keep getting distracted
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They say the Dementor's Kiss is supposed to be unbearable to witness but I'll do my best.
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I'm sorry if I confuse you. I don't do it on purpose. I'm an English Major and that's what we do.
I like your personal quote...
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I have inspiration - just don't have time.
And when I have time, I don't have inspiration.
Story of my life.
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