writing
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First Draft Hero (poem)
First draft hero! No class zero. Oh, did you not know that poetry is a business now? Everything is. Hustle away… Hustle away… The 1980s didn’t end they just turned into reality tv. First draft hero changes the font half way through. Those listening to this poem can’t hear it. But I changed the font…
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Poetry is a Waste of Time, a poem (believe it or not)
Poetry has become the cliche of all cliches. For most “poets” writing has become an act of masturbation, a way to kill some time. Anyone who dares to ramble about stupid shit like love or hope get’s thrown into the lion’s den. Anyone who appreciates the beauty of a river’s flow or the symphonies of…
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First Draft
First draft, catch the idea, put it on the page. But its not all there yet? Doesn’t matter, you have a quota. Just get it on the page, and get it out there. Fuck editing, fuck censoring, it’s all out, all on the line. Tomorrow is a big day, in a bad way, maybe we…
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Gramercy, The Journey of Jack Lewis. Chapter 2
Chapter 2 Jack’s New Friends For the first few nights Jack just crashed, tentless, in empty lots and beaches. He had pinched and saved little bits of money over the years by trading with some of the other prisoners, but it certainly wasn’t much and it certainly wouldn’t last very long. Eventually Jack decided…
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CoLoRfUl WoRdS
Colorful words, The Catch and release and play on contrast. What does it mean to be illegible and other matters we see mundane. Frustrated fun Begins again, Truth of soul we welcome your return. 10/9/14
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Swoons on the Untested Nightly
Owl Street lamp forms swoons on on the untested nightly, crossed lives spread ancient powder on even older remedies and cures. Blessed be the color of night, to hide my honest virgin truth. Their soul is truth in my soul any remedy, free of heart, yet all of soul, all of soul. Yet free of…
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The Dim Echo of Passing Light
The Dim echo of light passing by only to stand in the still life. How teary eyed echoes wager thus and iron carriages carry it on. Only a drunken peace can be the vice. They can only stare. Never worry, there is solace to be had on a cloudy night. 1/29/11
literature, love, Peace, poem, poems, poet, poetry, Poetry Blog, poetry blogs, poets, sex, Writers, writing -
And I’m Feeling Good…
My own personal jazz singer, always in my pocket, singing “Feeling Good.” Breaking old dawns to the worthless cliches they have always been. It’s a new dawn It’s a new day It’s a new life and it’s all just for me. Sing on Nina, I’m feeling good.
art, Feeling Good, Jazz, literature, love, Nina Simone, poem, poems, poet, poetry, Poetry Blog, poetry blogs, poets, tribute, Writers, writing
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