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Month: August 2018

Time rules our lives

Posted on 28/08/201828/08/2018 by Katfank2

It tells us we’re got to submit assignments, when they are due, get up and go to work, to pick the children up from school. Cook dinner before the partner gets home. It tells us about the thousands of things that have to be done, ‘now,’ and the thousands of things we do for others…

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Spring

Posted on 28/08/201804/09/2018 by john keast

There is, at first, a pin-prick of purple. Then magic unfolds at night and, at dawn, the azaleas are parasols of colour. They dance on long legs. There can be no better time: colour, grace, a new, subdued light. These are not days of bright sun, nor even warmth: it is an approach by stealth:…

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drift

Posted on 21/08/2018 by Mark Prisco

I’m wasted in the strange city.   There’s reason to be & not. In the haze between   light & dusk. My knees are where the heart was.   I live it still like it is.   The pigs next door are cutting grass                                 .   What will the cats think?   of that?  …

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weapon

Posted on 19/08/2018 by peterlebaige

weapon “Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burden’d air; Hungry clouds swag on the deep” – William Blake ‘The Marriage of Heaven & Hell’ the angel with tongue sweeter than starlight said to the lord of hand ‘oh Maker, i have a weapon to punish the unbelievers, those who deny thou art the…

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As You & I

Posted on 19/08/201819/08/2018 by Dean English

Clap your hands and it’s over, I can see that coming, already the guy is one. We go inside the supermarket and stand by the clay pumpkin stack, the carrots and the pale greens, and feel forward into it. The people, pushing by, may take of our stillness and quiet. It is good here, the…

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something out of nothing

Posted on 13/08/2018 by Mark Prisco

I   0 <   II   An eye   III   behind the bush; the whole   IV face, twin- starred.   Lord scorcheth. I can crawl but, …   there’s skin where a scar was. You was. Framed by the abstract   beauty of the flame,       slow but curious as…

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afterbirth

Posted on 11/08/2018 by Mark Prisco

hard the cold night homeward hard   scraps on the table- cloth bread wine   dregs a soup bowl   nothing   right?   what happened & was it worth it?

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Dancing Light and Liquor

Posted on 10/08/201813/08/2018 by john keast

What, he said, is poetry? A chance, I said, to look at things differently. Bollocks, he said. But, surely – He was steadfast. It’s nonsense. I countered: Without, you get wet in the rain; with, it is a scent, falling. Piffle, he said. I poured him a drink. Sometimes, I ventured, do you not see…

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diary entries

Posted on 07/08/201807/08/2018 by Mark Prisco

16 June 2018   If a cat, say, or a dog, lived as long as we did, what then? We’d be stuck with the same pet which might work, depending/   20 June 2018   The dog 2 doors down wears a dark frown like it wants to bark but knows there’s no sense in…

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Just Be

Posted on 03/08/201803/08/2018 by Editor

Lose your lie in the amble truthWalk this circle of mothers criesThe lunacy of holding on to those opaque streams of lightStreaming through fields of pink and purple orchids,The songbirds singing Because you can’t see the roadDoesn’t mean you shouldn’t trek the pathLight comes to thee who seekDarkness is blindA blanket of dark matter I…

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at the library

Posted on 03/08/2018 by Mark Prisco

am lost. wondering. the aisles. like years gone/to come tumbling: the librarian wordless & when i talk & she talks i’m not listening & i’m broken   also, & there’s Melville, Faulkner… high on the shelves.   in the 20 years left to live, i’ve thought to become intimate with, listen; become what i’m not,…

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Keep the dirt on your potatoes.

Posted on 03/08/2018 by Sindbad Bulidon

Keep the dirt on your potatoes. “” “” “” “” “” “” “” “” “” “” “” There is something true about the taste of the humble. Those born of the earth seeking no higher demeanor. There is depth in grit. A flavor of the soul. I am what I am… no better dressed than…

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