Category: Different
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Footstool
A poem from a friend about being drunk on Sunday reminded me of the time when I was eighteen and read Easter Sunday Scriptures at sunrise services high on LSD. I don’t remember which scriptures I read, but I remember the light through the stain glass just above the head of Jesus standing on the…
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The unwinding
All mothers do not know how to love All fathers do not come home at night All siblings do not get along All rustling in dry leaves is not a ghost it may only be a possum chasing a mouse All dogs that bark do not bite All cats do not spray in corners All…
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Dreaming prime numbers 7,919
You climb Your favorite neighborhood tree from childhood. You climb until you can see Beyond the trees and houses of your neighborhood. Your neighbor does not want you in their tree And neither does dad. They call up through the branches. You stay still until they leave. On the way home, you rehearse a story,…
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how many
how many generations of evolved fish only swam the surface near shore before the first one dared walk on land 12-31-22
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Advice for the artist
Gather mushrooms and berries in woods. Eat at a table with the poor. Walk among the brambles where no one goes. Crawl through the underbrush. The wolf stalks the well-tread path and the popular watering hole. 5-13-25
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Run-on sentence memory of Dad
My father dropped me off my first year of college, notebooks, pens, a dictionary and Bible in a cardboard box and a dress shirt I never wore on a hanger my mother packed for church and a suitcase of clothes, I was not an easy child to raise and he was nervous about me going…
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Gamer suicide
When he first experienced a random act of kindness, it made him feel warm and when he thought he understood the concept, he tried it on others and soon it was randomness he sought and soon folks did not see him as kind and soon he became an oddity tolerated in polite company and laughed…
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Translation
05/20 – sometimes I scan magazines articles to see if I want to dig deeper and they feel like poems – this is a poem I call Scan and Pick poem (in the order words occurred) from a New Yorker article this morning: =================================================== multilingual childhood between languages find myself untrammelled lyrical linguists Ay-Speak unabridged…
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Unmoved
(a poem for Trans awareness day) in an overgrown garden half-hidden in the weeds a concrete statue of Mary stands unmoved and alone a point of meditation long forgotten the sun shines through the clouds in subtle pinks, blues and green lichen illuminates her face clouds return to block the sun her kindness gives me…