Category: Poetry & Prose
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MA FLORA i
truth finds me now,as a thread,unthreading seams i’d sewnthe needle is a pineand if i am natureand nature within mei’d pray as i unravel that truth console my need
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decidedly yours

true, unsaid little virtueswhat common things i’ve yet to graspmysteries, survive mewhat lies below a lakedo you gaspfrom fathom of discoverywhile lungs fill with water,best do my breathingwhere the air is decidedly yours photo by Andrew Dalrymple OCEANOGRAPHY_02
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importance over penance under forgiveness over ignorance under importance

faith without reason is a miserable choiceand the breath of a deity is a need to rejoice but why are you so sullen now?there’s a God who forgivesour need to feel confidentis what vanity is Christians,Christians, what blessing hath he left us though?the dealings of our lives are aptly called an ebb and flow archaic…
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blacksnow in Spring

when beetles wake from days of winter cavingand the needles on those pines are all but changingit’s long undone honey, it’s me you saw bleeding with the riverthe snow that melts and reels me into shiversi’m redefined photo by Juan Manuel Castro Prieto PORTUGAL RISING FROM THE ASHES
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the noise was terrible

it’s suddenly dark it’s awfully darkif light was a sound it was loud covering ears to deafen the fearsencompassing me like a cloud
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wire

the tide that had shifta poem adrifticarus give us a sign a freediving psalmthat screams carry-onthe pressure that mounts underneath so, what of us then? if light is a gift and freedom’s withini am a man who contends and in truth i am wearyfrom these sudden uneasy demands it’s climbing like water and brinelike waves…
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mast

what wonderful things a garden can bringthe mast that would rise like a pine don’t reel yourself inbut harness the windyour strength is a thing to behold
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an antique desk that represents moving on

it’s not even cold in hereit’s bereavement to a widow fourth oversomething placid and refinedmy body aches like the wood in the antique desk she lent to mebefore he dieddoes she know it’s herebaking in the sunwhere the arguments of petty rivalries outlast the peace of pestilence
