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  1. Papa's One Year

    Let me change the my topic of the recent week. Today, September 18th, is the one year anniversary of my father's passing. I was working on a poem sequence for the occaision, but unfortunately with all the recent events around me I couldn't finish it, or actually get half way. I will work on it and eventually finish it. But for now I want to post two poems here. One is something I wrote many years ago when I was in college. It was based on my father.

    One Bright Day
    ...
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  2. overthrown

    ...i love this picture...i smile, i laugh...it's purrrrfeckt....



    casually drifting along
    the timeline of tomorrow
    surveying desires, wants
    and so-so possibilities
    considering the monetary value
    of adventures
    and the right to stay adrift

    fragments of the future
    are forever available
    in this section of the heap

    ...
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  3. street life



    wake up shivering
    hard cold cement
    paper thin cardboard
    makes an uneasy bed
    it is of little value
    in life on the street
    an everyday occurrence
    of sleeping in too many
    yesterday clothes

    friendships made
    created to survive
    love grows strong
    sweet and fast
    in quick short beats

    life skills required ...
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  4. update

    I am soooooo happpy today. One of those days where although everyone else appears to be having a mare of a time, my life is just absolutely wonderful. I've got three complements today, just bought my facourite film on DVD (came out yesterday), and got in touch with old friends. I didn't even care when my job was being annoying, I could just ignore it and watch the clock for once. And I've nothing to do tonight apart from read tonight. And I've got a lovely weekend ahead. Everything is brilliant! ...
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  5. theblade



    shining secretly
    tucked away
    forbidden
    the black blade beckons
    her once again

    with disturbing strength
    and unexplained fear
    behind closed doors
    she longs to feel alive

    it's not the life nor breathe
    but the soul that moves her on
    enduring time without peace
    is like the fires of hell
    biting at her ...
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