I’ve been bitten

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listen to ‘i’ve been bitten, sea fever’ on audioBoom Sea Fever BY JOHN MASEFIELD I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, And a grey …

Slow descent into madness, Listen to Christopher Walken and Alan Parsons Project read Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”

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I remember having to memorise the first few stanza of “The Raven” when I was in junior high. It was this poem that first turned me on to poetry in general, along with Robert Frost’s poem Dust of Snow. Poe first published “The Raven” 169 years ago today.  The poem tells the tale of a distraught lover’s slow descent into madness. …

sunday afternoon

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black coffee pounding def beats through my veins a jazz rift drifts like dead flies against the newscaster’s sand blasted voice scratching head lines across my brain. senior prison officers pimping passes for pussy, didn’t see that one coming, male guards female prisoners human beings in denial of their base instincts. ann abramovich knows the score: ‘i wish u peace, …

desire

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Her breasts bounce in step with each step on the step master they bounce, Like over-filled water balloons on a string, they bounce. Sweat drips slowly between her crevasse We lick our lips like on a hot summer day, standing before a merchant’s stall of freshly cut water melons, full of thirst She steps. Process notes: I was looking for …

two live wires

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It isn’t nice to be naked. Two live wires, hot, exposed, to dangerous to touch together under the night sky. Dark, unyielding, no moon to light the way toward salvation and bliss. A kiss delivered on velvet lips awaiting the morning dew to deliver parched lips from a thousand nights of thirst. Process notes: I wrote this piece after reading …

in search of peace

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III.  in search of peace I searched for peace but could not find her on the troubled city streets I climbed a mountain seeking peace in the clouds, but saw only gun-smoke rising from heated barrels I listened by a babbling brook for peace’s soothing song, but heard only the drowning voices of the thirsty cry I sort solace in …

dark eyes

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i want to know the story written in her sad, dark eyes i wonder why she cries at night, her sad, dark eyes never smile, but captivate, trance like pleading, needing sad, dark eyes i want to know the pain they hide and hold the softest touch the tilted chin the lightest kiss to ease the pain away, her sad …

saxophone

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Got my Lucky Strikes and Jesus doll Pinup girl in yellow shorts pouts love Through lips red as the dawn sky on The fourth of July, I’m ready to roll Cowboy hat no Texan to stand Jack Daniels and Coke drank separate like a man, I hitch a ride south on ninety nine Door opens and slams Yellow convertible, white …

i guess i chose wisely

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You Should Be A Poet You craft words well, in creative and unexpected ways. And you have a great talent for evoking beautiful imagery… Or describing the most intense heartbreak ever. You’re already naturally a poet, even if you’ve never written a poem. What Type of Writer Should You Be?

cold coffee

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she sits at the back of Starbucks and stares at the door, poised in anticipation of her prey she does not blink she does not drink her coffee goes cold she could be an exhibit in Madame Tussauds i want to touch her to see if she is real, but i dare not move my coffee goes cold