Tag: creative writing
group name: deadpoetssociety
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December 14, 2009 07:53 PM EST --
siren
The siren comes out clear. It has passed
through being nonexistent, muffled
and distinct like blood stains. The siren,
a voice of caution, the clear siren,
comes . . .
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December 13, 2009 07:59 PM EST --
Reality of a vacation
It falls, dignifiedly sloth, deliberate;
it falls while we listen to the stream, the tune.
The harmony embraces us; the rich hues
of the . . .
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August 20, 2009 07:54 AM EDT --
I watched me sleep
(To Dawn)
The last time I watched me while asleep
my mouth was kept ajar, a drop
of sea was following my left cheek.
The last time I watched me while . . .
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November 30, 2009 09:14 PM EST --
Affair with a dead poet
Vital blood of a fountain pen on the floor;
dead muse from a century before flips, turns
as the wind blows. Saliva dribbles down . . .
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November 30, 2009 07:13 AM EST --
relationship
Hate soaks a piece of cloth in water
with love she applies it on my head.
Twitches her mouth. She says that I have made
her face these trying times . . .
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July 28, 2009 07:07 AM EDT --
(haibun) power cut
This is the city of power cut. Someone has said. The ghost of darkness still plagues us, the people. Sometimes. Sometimes evening is a wrap of darkness. Power failure? . . .
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July 29, 2009 06:51 AM EDT --
Painter’s block
The pages of a drawing book scatter their assets
on the floor, a sluggish electric fan is moving
on its own whim. He dips his brushes on the water;
sees . . .
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December 08, 2009 07:56 PM EST --
I, a thief
Shades of a wrong lie on a still road.
November clouds; the smoke of evening
is a whisper you hears I scream,
I have come across a famine, a flood
and now . . .
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July 30, 2009 05:58 AM EDT --
The way I live
Windows open; windows closed; from this flat
I can see
images of
more and more flats. I can breath in other's breathing;
your dreams
. . .
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August 19, 2009 06:54 AM EDT --
Stubborn that we have been
Preparing a soul is quite a job
it runs around the bed, naked.
To catch it and make it dress, tires.
I have to offer soda pops or
tiny plastic toys . . .
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August 10, 2009 08:19 AM EDT --
Day s in, days out
The smile blends with blood; opens
the curtains of the east windows.
Dawn? Again? Crumpled bed swears.
Yolk color washes her and she
cannot be sure if she is
happy . . .
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September 13, 2009 07:05 AM EDT --
moondance for two
The bridge stops at about the middle
of loneliness where two different
times’ contours crease out. Softly state,
tell him of the noon of simple wind chimes . . .
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September 15, 2009 08:18 AM EDT --
Advice for two vacationers
Right from the next turn. No, is not it
the bend after the next? These go on.
After all every turns promise thrills
of finding new bends, of new . . .
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December 09, 2009 07:55 PM EST --
Immortality of a carroty sky
(To Richard Lynn LIvesay)
This is the turn where we end. We leave the death buried.
I look at you, bewildered with my immortality.
What would you . . .
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July 27, 2009 06:57 AM EDT --
.
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f riendship b etween t wo s traw p eople
Not a word has been exchanged
except a desolate scrap
which becomes a bee and flies
out in talk-and-word’s . . .
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July 31, 2009 06:29 AM EDT --
A car named belief
(To Roger Brigg)
You do not believe in your power of believing.
I state that between two sips; you do not believe me
either; hence I stumble on . . .
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August 21, 2009 08:03 AM EDT --
Ze n like
Night seems to grow a beard,
laughs in full heart, hoots and go
naked amid its own
colony for pure nudists.
The earthen pipe of pot-dreams . . .
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August 22, 2009 07:00 AM EDT --
Road kills at seventy-five K.M./hour
The gleaming grass and two inquisitive squirrels
we pass them all, we pass the corpse of a dog
at seventy five K.M. per hour. Only . . .
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August 09, 2009 07:17 AM EDT --
Owl-eyed-time
I once had an owl at our attic
in the nightfall it used to play a trick
vanishing, petering out, fading
evanescing… and there had never been
a window, open . . .
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August 11, 2009 08:01 AM EDT --
conversation with god and you
A pre-autumn sun slowly passes through
the verdant leaves of an old banyan.
I know gods come alive at these moments
and your sagacious arguments
that . . .
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