I stood under tree branches
that curled up like cupped hands- held out to me.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
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Private Edgar Perry for Edgar Allen Poe I reported for duty, a Bostonian, surly, moody, unsteady. Twenty and two, not eighteen, Yes, twenty ...
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We're both writers but, why is it that we cannot truly express what it is we feel without the recommendation of a movie reel- We're ...
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Empty lines- Now there are not enough notes- and I am missing notes- I am missing your notes too much time passing two, three, four, five to...
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Such a sweet face. But she still doesn't know her place. When you read your poetry to us, try not to make such a fuss. It's difficul...
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Though it hasn't been months since I have written and attempted edits within my memoir, it has been quite some time since I have reflect...
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There are holes in these walls and someone is pounding away making new ones. A little girl with a bell hammer smack smack smack She only ban...
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Why do we have two of mostly everything arms, legs, hands, feet, ankles, shins, hips, breasts, 2 sets of fingers, two sets of toes, 2 eyes, ...
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Love is impatient with me. Love is unkind to me. It envies. It boasts. It is so proud. Love was once rude, it sought only itself and then wa...
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...

lovely lines.
ReplyDeleteHow are you?
ReplyDeleteWelcome join us for week 6 short story slam fun,
Bless you..
Keep it up!