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Archive for October, 2009

Sympathies exist,
Presentiments and signs
That baffle our mortal comprehension;
To dream or to see
Or to feel or to hear
What seems not to be there.
But such things exist,
Things beyond this earth,
Things beyond our sacred
Thoughts of heaven.
These are the things that reason defies –
But reason sometimes lies.
-Paul Gordon, “Jane Eyre”, a musical based on the novel by Charlotte Brontë

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One dusty window
gives the room its only light –
and that is our faith.

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The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you [...]

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People think they are so smart when they say _____ has replaced belief in God. What if belief in God is a noun, and _____ is the act of believing in God? And what if that is the only reason _____ can prevail in society?
(Vogue fill-ins for _____ include Art, Poetry, Music, Science, [...]

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petals run downstream
like crescent fingers stroking
the hair down your back

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Open a rainstick.
Pour cement over the rice.
Now it’s a rainstuck.

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My branch is greener.
My branch is stronger.
My branch is higher.
My branch is better for the children.
I am the songbird of God.
No, I am the songbird of God!
No, there is no God.
Yes, there is a God
and He has sent me to remind you
you are not a peacock,
and you must wear your feathers according
to what you are.
I [...]

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Worn out? Worn out!
It’s been done before.
Worn out, crinkled, putrifying, staggering
Through streets foggy with intellectual bullets
That promise to give way to civil war
And the worn-out persecutions that have been done before.
My poetry has finally come even with reality.
Worn-out persecutions thought to be post-menopausal,
Still pregnant.
My country has been hearing my poetry
Since poetry came over the [...]

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I am a shadow
dancing to your gold rhythm
on your curvaceous lilac-scented candle.
But you slowly drink your fuel
and drink yourself
to death.

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(Warning: Gross, Disturbing Halloween Poetry)

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