Category: My Work
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Things
Things There are too many things in the world, Things that lead to complications And disappointment. We suffer from a need for things, Things that sow chaos around us And reap a harvest of grief. We proudly display them to family and friends, Forgetting that envy lurks behind every smile. There is something in our…
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A Time That Was
A Time That Was I weep for a time that was, Perhaps because I will never see it again. I see it now with different eyes, Eyes dimmed but still discerning, Eyes with refined ability and yet Things crumble to dust, Then vanish beyond my event horizon And go somewhere else. Things that were near…
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Skipping Stones
Skipping Stones Just the right angle. Just the right shape. Just the right spin. Just the right force. This stone will dance across the water A frog leaping lily pad to lily pad Marking the water’s mirrored-face with rippling stars Until all inertia and forward momentum is spent And it sinks as nature and physics…
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The Meaning Of Meaning
The Meaning Of Meaning How to give a rock meaning? It has to be the right rock One that fits neatly in my hand, Oval in shape and smooth to the touch Why this one out of uncounted number That are spred beneath my feet? Because I chose it. One that you imbue/invest with a…
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Doubt
Doubt What am I doing and why am I doing it? A bit late to be considering such questions Donβt you think? Perhaps, But, βFor want of a nail, etc, etc.β It seems there are many ways to get From alpha to omega. I hope I have considered them all And judged them fairly. But…
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Spinning and Weaving
Spinning and Weaving Drawing threads from here and there, Hands long used to harder labour And the bite of wind and sea Now spin and weave The story of our line, Trace our seed in warp and weft With colours drawn From soil and sand, shrub and bloom That speak our history in its sett.…
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Ozymandias
OZYMANDIAS My name is Ozymandias. Look on my works ( please ). I build cathedrals with phrases. I plant gardens with pages of print. I erect towers of poetry and prose. I sow fields with words, Words that scatter on my page. Like seeds from the sower, Some fall on fertile soil While…
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Dirty Old Rag
Dirty Old Rag I am alone. Tossed in some darkened corner Nothing but an old rag Stained and tattered Useful enough to wipe a stain or spill. It was once part of something else, New, clean and whole. Now it is torn and ragged, Moving on to other purposes Perhaps less noble than before Yet…
