Israel
- haresfur - Jul 26, 2024 - 11:52pm
what the hell, miamizsun?
- oldviolin - Jul 26, 2024 - 9:59pm
260,000 Posts in one thread?
- oldviolin - Jul 26, 2024 - 9:54pm
NY Times Strands
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J.D. Vance
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Wordle - daily game
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Outstanding Covers
- KurtfromLaQuinta - Jul 26, 2024 - 9:19pm
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
- oldviolin - Jul 26, 2024 - 8:56pm
Paris Olympics
- Bill_J - Jul 26, 2024 - 7:45pm
Name My Band
- oldviolin - Jul 26, 2024 - 7:21pm
• • • The Once-a-Day • • •
- oldviolin - Jul 26, 2024 - 7:14pm
Lyrics that strike a chord today...
- oldviolin - Jul 26, 2024 - 7:12pm
What the hell OV?
- oldviolin - Jul 26, 2024 - 6:59pm
Song of the Day
- oldviolin - Jul 26, 2024 - 6:39pm
WHY am I so addicted to chocolate???
- kcar - Jul 26, 2024 - 6:25pm
Yellowstone is in Wyoming Meetup • Aug. 11 2007 • YEA...
- KurtfromLaQuinta - Jul 26, 2024 - 3:59pm
Bug Reports & Feature Requests
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Things You Thought Today
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NYTimes Connections
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Russia
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July 2024 Photo Theme - Summer
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Project 2025
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Radio Paradise Comments
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What inspires you?
- sirdroseph - Jul 26, 2024 - 4:42am
As California Goes, So Goes The Rest Of The Country
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Positive Thoughts and Prayer Requests
- haresfur - Jul 25, 2024 - 8:49pm
Neoliberalism: what exactly is it?
- Steely_D - Jul 25, 2024 - 8:24pm
What makes you smile?
- Steely_D - Jul 25, 2024 - 8:18pm
Poetry
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Trump
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Things that piss me off
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Electronic Music
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your music
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Joe Biden
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Photos you have taken of your walks or hikes.
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USA! USA! USA!
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The War On You
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The Obituary Page
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Get the Quote
- black321 - Jul 25, 2024 - 8:06am
Today in History
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Rhetorical questions
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Message To Lucky
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SCOTUS
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2024 Elections!
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Song from the TV series
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songs that ROCK!
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Lyrics that are stuck in your head today...
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Song stuck in your head?
- thisbody - Jul 24, 2024 - 9:29am
Play the Blues
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Songs with a Groove
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Climate Change
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RightWingNutZ
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favorite love songs
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Jam! (why should a song stop)
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Amazing animals!
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Vinyl Only Spin List
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Kamala Harris
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Mixtape Culture Club
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Musky Mythology
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YouTube: Music-Videos
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Animal Resistance
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Race in America
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What Makes You Laugh?
- geoff_morphini - Jul 23, 2024 - 11:42am
New Music
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Poetry Forum
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Sampled
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Live Music
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• • • What Makes You Happy? • • •
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Kamala Harris
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Europe
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Got my Goat
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Best wishes
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Jon Stewart interview
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Acoustic Guitar
- oldviolin - Jul 21, 2024 - 1:44pm
Gardeners Photos
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Index »
Entertainment »
Books »
Poetry Forum
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Page: Previous 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 210, 211, 212 Next |
ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Jun 18, 2023 - 8:00pm |
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There Comes the Strangest Momentby Kate Light There comes the strangest moment in your life, when everything you thought before breaks free— what you relied upon, as ground-rule and as rite looks upside down from how it used to be. Skin’s gone pale, your brain is shedding cells; you question every tenet you set down; obedient thoughts have turned to infidels and every verb desires to be a noun. I want—my want. I love—my love. I’ll stay with you. I thought transitions were the best, but I want what’s here to never go away. I’ll make my peace, my bed, and kiss this breast… Your heart’s in retrograde. You simply have no choice. Things people told you turn out to be true. You have to hold that body, hear that voice. You’d have sworn no one knew you more than you. How many people thought you’d never change? But here you have. It’s beautiful. It’s strange.
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GeneP59
![GeneP59 Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/5031-1591989894.png)
Location: On the edge of tomorrow looking back at yesterday. Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
May 5, 2023 - 9:29am |
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Me, me me me me!
Not you but Me!
Only Me.
Canât be you.
Canât be anyone else but Me.
Cause itâs Me Time.
Me, me me me me!
What? Too much sugar today?
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oldviolin
![oldviolin Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/43780-1721913915.jpg)
Location: esse quam videri Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
May 4, 2023 - 9:23pm |
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Amazing poems, Scott ![{#Good-vibes} {#Good-vibes}](scripts/tiny_mce/plugins/emotions/img/good-vibes.gif) and Each time my father had a choice, he chosethe world he already knew, holding stilltill what he wanted looked like what he had.
dang
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
May 4, 2023 - 5:38am |
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Kindred Spiritby Carrie Shipers My father doesn’t say ghost, though I know he’s haunted. Instead he says, When they let Uncle Marion out of that hospital, he didn’t even move the same. He said they tried to take his stories. He loves his fifteen uncles fiercely. Nearly all of them drank, did time in prison or mental hospitals, died before forty. When Marion was twenty; a judge offered him the navy or prison. He couldn’t swim, so he ran away. Then, prison or the army. Marching hurt his feet. The third time, he picked prison and was out in six months. I never liked to hear folks call him crazy, my father says. He couldn’t help how he was. What I know about my father tells me why he loves these men—the troubles they ran from and to, stories they lived without learning what they meant—and why he mourns. Each time my father had a choice, he chose the world he already knew, holding still till what he wanted looked like what he had.
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Apr 27, 2023 - 6:09am |
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The First Green of Springby David Budbill Out walking in the swamp picking cowslip, marsh marigold, this sweet first green of spring. Now sautéed in a pan melting to a deeper green than ever they were alive, this green, this life, harbinger of things to come. Now we sit at the table munching on this message from the dawn which says we and the world are alive again today, and this is the world’s birthday. And even though we know we are growing old, we are dying, we will never be young again, we also know we’re still right here now, today, and, my oh my! don’t these greens taste good.
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oldviolin
![oldviolin Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/43780-1721913915.jpg)
Location: esse quam videri Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Mar 8, 2023 - 12:02pm |
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Longing
Could I from this valley drear, Where the mist hangs heavily, Soar to some more blissful sphere, Ah! how happy should I be! Distant hills enchant my sight, Ever young and ever fair; To those hills I'd take my flight Had I wings to scale the air.
Harmonies mine ear assail, Tunes that breathe a heavenly calm; And the gently-sighing gale Greets me with its fragrant balm. Peeping through the shady bowers, Golden fruits their charms display. And those sweetly-blooming flowers Ne'er become cold winter's prey.
In you endless sunshine bright, Oh! what bliss 'twould be to dwell! How the breeze on yonder height Must the heart with rapture swell! Yet the stream that hems my path Checks me with its angry frown, While its waves, in rising wrath, Weigh my weary spirit down.
See—a bark is drawing near, But, alas, the pilot fails! Enter boldly—wherefore fear? Inspiration fills its sails, Faith and courage make thine own,— Gods ne'er lend a helping-hand; 'Tis by magic power alone Thou canst reach the magic land!
Friedrich von Schiller
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Feb 21, 2023 - 5:08am |
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VIII – from “Twelve Songs”by W. H. Auden At last the secret is out, as it always must come in the end, The delicious story is ripe to tell to the intimate friend; Over the tea-cups and in the square the tongue has its desire; Still waters run deep, my dear, there’s never smoke without fire. Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links, Behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks, Under the look of fatigue, the attack of migraine and the sigh There is always another story, there is more than meets the eye. For the clear voice suddenly singing, high up in the convent wall, The scent of the elder bushes, the sporting prints in the hall, The croquet matches in summer, the handshake, the cough, the kiss, There is always a wicked secret, a private reason for this.
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Feb 9, 2023 - 6:46am |
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The reason Miss Delaney was my favorite teacher, not just my favorite English teacher, is that she would let me read any book I wanted and would allow me to report on it. I had the pleasure of reading The Scapegoat as well as We the Living as well as Silver Spoon (which was about a whole bunch of rich folk who were unhappy), and Defender of the Damned, which was about Clarence Darrow, which led me into Native Son because the real case was defended by Darrow though in Native Son he got the chair despite the fact that Darrow never lost a client to the chair including Leopold and Loeb who killed Bobby Frank. Native Son led me to Eight Men and all the rest of Richard Wright but I preferred Langston Hughes at that time and Gwendolyn Brooks and I did reports on both of them. I always loved English because whatever human beings are, we are storytellers. It is our stories that give a light to the future. When I went to college I became a history major because history is such a wonderful story of who we think we are; English is much more a story of who we really are. It was, after all, Miss Delaney who introduced the class to My candle burns at both ends; /It will not last the night; /But, ah, my foes, and, oh, my friends— /It gives a lovely light. And I thought YES. Poetry is the main line. English is the train.
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Jan 25, 2023 - 5:12am |
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Things Shouldn’t Be So Hardby Kay Ryan A life should leave deep tracks: ruts where she went out and back to get the mail or move the hose around the yard; where she used to stand before the sink, a worn-out place; beneath her hand the china knobs rubbed down to white pastilles; the switch she used to feel for in the dark almost erased. Her things should keep her marks. The passage of a life should show; it should abrade. And when life stops, a certain space— however small— should be left scarred by the grand and damaging parade. Things shouldn’t be so hard.
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Jan 22, 2023 - 7:18pm |
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for a late January day
I had a dream, which was not all a dream: The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless and pathless, and the icy Earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air! Morn came, and went, and came - and brought no day. And men forgot their passions in the dread Of this their desolation; and all hearts Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light. And they did live by watchfires - and the thrones, The palaces of crownéd kings, the huts, The habitations of all things which dwell, Were burnt for beacons. Cities were consumed, And men were gathered round their blazing homes To look once more into each other's face. Happy were those which dwelt within the eye Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch! A fearful hope was all the World contained - Forests were set on fire, but hour by hour They fell and faded, and the crackling trunks Extinguished with a crash, and all was black.
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Manbird
![Manbird Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/25877-1407307273.jpg)
Location: La Villa Toscana Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Jan 22, 2023 - 3:22pm |
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ScottN wrote:
Geography of the Forehead
by Ron Koertge
Everyone thinks the brain is so complicated,
but letâs look at the facts. The frontal lobe,
for example, is located in the front! And
the temporal lobe is where the clock is.
What could be simpler?
The hippocampal fissure is where big, dumb
thoughts camp, while at the Fissure of Rolando
dark-skinned men with one gold earring lie
around the fire and play guitars.
The superior frontal convolution is where
a lot of really nice houses are set back off
a twisty road, while the inferior frontal
convolution is a kind of trailer park, regularly
leveled by brainstorms.
The area of Broca is pretty much off limits.
And if you know Broca, you know why.
Dutch? Or not...
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Jan 17, 2023 - 10:03am |
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Let other mornings honor the miraculous. Eternity has festivals enough. This is the feast of our mortality, The most mundane and human holiday.
On other days we misinterpret time, Pretending that we live the present moment. But can this blur, this smudgy in-between, This tiny fissure where the future drips
Into the past, this flyspeck we call now Be our true habitat? The present is The leaky palm of water that we skim From the swift, silent river slipping by.
The new year always brings us what we want Simply by bringing us along—to see A calendar with every day uncrossed, A field of snow without a single footprint.
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Jan 12, 2023 - 5:05am |
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Geography of the Foreheadby Ron Koertge Everyone thinks the brain is so complicated, but let’s look at the facts. The frontal lobe, for example, is located in the front! And the temporal lobe is where the clock is. What could be simpler? The hippocampal fissure is where big, dumb thoughts camp, while at the Fissure of Rolando dark-skinned men with one gold earring lie around the fire and play guitars. The superior frontal convolution is where a lot of really nice houses are set back off a twisty road, while the inferior frontal convolution is a kind of trailer park, regularly leveled by brainstorms. The area of Broca is pretty much off limits. And if you know Broca, you know why.
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Antigone
![Antigone Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/630-1719054681.jpg)
Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley Gender: ![Female](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_female.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Dec 25, 2022 - 6:37am |
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ScottN wrote:
Christmas Light
When everyone had gone
I sat in the library
With the small silent tree,
She and I alone.
How softly she shone!
And for the first time then
For the first time this year,
I felt reborn again,
I knew loveâs presence near.
Love distant, love detached
And strangely without weight,
Was with me in the night
When everyone had gone
And the garland of pure light
Stayed on, stayed on. âChristmas Lightâ by May Sarton
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Dec 25, 2022 - 5:33am |
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Christmas Light When everyone had gone I sat in the library With the small silent tree, She and I alone. How softly she shone! And for the first time then For the first time this year, I felt reborn again, I knew love’s presence near. Love distant, love detached And strangely without weight, Was with me in the night When everyone had gone And the garland of pure light Stayed on, stayed on. “Christmas Light” by May Sarton
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ScottN
![ScottN Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/36042-1382566545.png)
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Nov 16, 2022 - 7:42am |
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Their friends looked shocked—said not possible, said how sad. The trees carried on with their treeish lives—stately except when they shed their silly dandruff of birds. And the ocean did what oceans mostly do— suspended almost everything, dropped one small ship, or two. The day beauty divorced meaning, someone picked a flower, a fight, a flight. Someone got on a boat. A closet lost its suitcases. Someone was snowed in, someone else on. The sun went down and all it was, was night.
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miamizsun
![miamizsun Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/9227.jpg)
Location: (3283.1 Miles SE of RP) Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Nov 15, 2022 - 2:46pm |
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Manbird wrote:
Cool site! Most of the poetry generated there is ten (10) times better than any of the junk I've ever written.
ok, but not because you say so!
How To Scratch Mother Lips
For a day, maybe thousand,
I rested under a harrowing wind
at a bus stop, waiting for the aunt to be inside.
Carry me onto your raft - the apple of my school -
/poem/9288b8d98c54a191
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Manbird
![Manbird Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/25877-1407307273.jpg)
Location: La Villa Toscana Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Nov 15, 2022 - 2:27pm |
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miamizsun wrote:
I Expected Mothers
Our new rose, our scrupulous ritual tetrahedrons.
In the face of so many blades to animosity.
Within the scratching receptacles.
I'd do it for the branch in which you preserve
for the honeysuckles of cashmire you've built.
A loaf of bread baked with lewd sincerity and salt.
The green car weaves in transforming your eyelids.
It showers like a flag outside the cathedral.
-poetry ninja (ai generated)
Cool site! Most of the poetry generated there is ten (10) times better than any of the junk I've ever written.
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miamizsun
![miamizsun Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/9227.jpg)
Location: (3283.1 Miles SE of RP) Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Nov 15, 2022 - 1:44pm |
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I Expected Mothers
Our new rose, our scrupulous ritual tetrahedrons.
In the face of so many blades to animosity.
Within the scratching receptacles.
I'd do it for the branch in which you preserve
for the honeysuckles of cashmire you've built.
A loaf of bread baked with lewd sincerity and salt.
The green car weaves in transforming your eyelids.
It showers like a flag outside the cathedral.
-poetry ninja (ai generated)
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Manbird
![Manbird Avatar](https://img.radioparadise.com/avatars/25877-1407307273.jpg)
Location: La Villa Toscana Gender: ![Male](graphics/icons/icon_minigender_male.gif) ![](graphics/clear.gif)
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Posted:
Nov 14, 2022 - 1:51pm |
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Unslept
Of an evening sky this blood entailed
There was blood in the forest
And blood on the trail
The shotgun suicide sky has wept
All its forlorn gore and most of its flesh
Bone - it had none - nor tendons to stretch
Its breath without lungs but still sucked once
Then strangled the black neck of twilight
The silence the night the quiet the none
A torn photo of daylight remained
Like eventual or sometime or maybe
A thin sprocket of light a razor the drain
Of becoming but teased - extinguished
His tar becomes dark
Of deep night sky this charcoal emitted
The patient's mouth gaping
His charcoal ingrained
Upon lips and between broken teeth
His stomach is pumped completely
And all that remains is sweet stain
And black sticky between his burned ribs
This is where the suicide patient
Lies darkly his wrists without skin
This is where the wound was compressed
And look... they found the bottle
Empty of his daylight prescribed
And having swallowed it all
He vomited night
Of specular dawn this horror arising
A stainless steel table
At an angle of seven degrees
Sluices catch serums and juices that seep
From the suicide specter with sun in his eyes
Wrinkles of cloud sprinkle drops of despair
Over purple edged moles with black shaven hairs
The urine is dried by a pale burning sun
The saliva stains gathered in jars
The snake stalks the rodent with a tongue
That can smell and the tang in the forest appalled
And people who sleep through all of this glory
Never visit this forest at all
This is the place where insomniacs walk
The landscape where lunatics fall
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