Stories tagged poetry

Passing from the Light I Glimpse

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Passing from the light I glimpse my daughter in the midnight kitchen glow dipping ice-cream for herself alone—the bending hand smooth above surface perfection holds room but no need for a dark father's thoughts on one so sharp she must cut the world…

Mr. Bourgeois Drowns His Sorrows

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Late last night down at Jim's Saloon Everyone expected that the last balloon Would go Boom! The one they all saw coming And Lady Liberty would send the bad guys running

What I Am

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I am a happy cog

Semiotics For Sale

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Buy random DNA on the open market and drive a poisoned stake into the heart of darkness.

Scratch

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'That November I washed my hair with rabbit's blood -"

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 6

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When I got word from Mary Jo, she warned me that Mitchell Parkman was out looking for me with a butcher knife. I knew immediately what I had to do. I packed up my things and sold the Pepsi van and moved up to a room on Regent Street in Berkeley, all the w

Chennai

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I go to the seaand turn myself over in my hand like a shell: a hollow conch carried on the resonance of a song long past its singing. My heart is a well and this city, one that is forever in drought.

Postcard from Shambhala

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Dearest Z— There is no way to describe this place. It is a pendulum, caught at mid-swing or maybe just a millimeter on the up side. It is a sense of sweeping, a cleanness. Distant clouds remind me of the day we took the train and the mountains acted petulantly,…

Love Letters

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I saw your soul like flesh through négligée, enigma moulding treasure from okay.

Poem About Never Growing Up

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You never really grow up You just put on different clothes Sure your behavior changes And you stop picking your nose

Role

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The pieces of bread dipped us humans in cheese, the cheese made by cows from our milk.

A Caregiver's Homage To The Very Old

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When you take her grocery shopping take a list and make her stick to it as she forgets and duplicates a lot She is also very generous and will insist on buying you something I think she cannot live without fresh flowers or plants that are bl

The Beast That Resembles A Poem(A Handy Resource for Architects,Engineers, and Students)

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I Want You to smile without stretching it, hum that little something that can never be described only experienced like a sudden wind to your face that wakens you like you walked into a dream for one rare crash. …

Countdown

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I’m twenty eight years old, and I am dying.

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 7

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When I got word from Mary Jo, she warned me that Mitchell Parkman was out looking for me with a butcher knife. I knew immediately what I had to do. I packed up my things and sold the Pepsi van and moved up to a room on Regent Street in Berkeley, all the w