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  1. Voices In the Wind

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    Voices In the Wind

    Standing on the barren mountaintop the wind is like a whip.
    Beneath me the turkey vultures soar by me once again.
    Why do I feel I’m on the edge barely clinging by my fingertips?
    Listening to the Voices In the Wind.

    Oh, the contradictory clauses in the things we do and say.
    I really think I’d fit in here, if I could only find my place.
    While all the time we’re packing bags to go and search for better things. ...
  2. carrion

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Imported Poems)
    gouge me with a
    turret and
    clean out my
    scatter my
    bones so that
    vultures can

    i'd like to
    that i am still
    clean but the
    mirror of hades
    is grinning at
  3. water/ode to me and l. macbeth

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Imported Poems)
    ***this still awaits revision and is not the finished version***

    i have been thirsty-
    i do not mean
    like one in the desert;
    that i could stand.

    i have craved water
    with it all around
    holding my cup out under
    rivers tumbling

    cascading heavily
    to drown
    but my cup
    remains empty i
    cannot be cleansed

    and the guilt remains
    tattooed on my skin
  4. Self Portrait II

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    Self Portrait II

    A dash of vibrant color, or some inner spark
    Flows to the canvas from my broken heart.
    Should I follow up my varicolored plastic dreams—
    Knowing some more drab, more realistic, might never be seen?
    What is the exact hue of the legacy
    That I will leave on this canvas—left behind me?
    Borrowed crimson emotions, aquamarine tears,
    A bit of deep jet shadow here and there—
    Golden glow of hope, cornflower blue ...
  5. (untitled)

    Mom, please, please,
    please stop breaking the dishes.
    They did not a thing.

    I flee from the kitchen
    to the safety of my bedroom
    and tightly shut the door.

    But I am no more spared
    in my room than the kitchen
    from roars of exploding China.

    I drown the noise
    letting my stereo be
    my sole refuge.

    I clutch my head in despair
    as another plate flies down
    only to be shattered. ...