• I said I don’t do this. poems that behave
    that count their beats and beg to sound profound
    but here I am the fool you couldn’t save
    all rhyme and reason. love still hangin round

    I hate this form. it’s polished. cold. confined
    like scrubbin blood just so it stains again
    I tell myself to leave your heart behind
    but every line just drags…Read More

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    Lost Poem #2: Vow in 3/5 Time

    When I grow up IThen will blow up myDress shirt and necktie(Bes’ suit too!), Heck IMeans I’ll wear LeviJeans and my tenniShoes, And I’ll choose toLose those ol’ blues, doDrink some good booze, too!Think I may snooze twoDays, read...

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    • I don’t know if I ever grew up. Losing that spark of silly just seems tragic to me. Glad you stumbled on this old gem. Made me smile 😊

      • Oh, thank you! I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep it, but reading it again made me smile, too, so I thought I’d share it and see what others thought. If no one else leaves a positive note, you alone have made this venture worthwhile.

    • Thank you dearly my friend! I so need all this feedback! You and Willow have lifted me up today! It is I who need you!

    • You??!! Grown up?? Highly doubtful, not with pup-pies running around or with fishbowl gup-pies. And I am guessing you are good friends with that ‘flying’ Peter and his pixie friend. I think we “older” folk need a slogan or motto, something like “The older I gets, the younger I feels” (in mind if not in body…LOL). And of course we will also need a theme song, this poem will do quite nicely I think!!!! Go, FlatDaddy, GO! Keep on rockin’ tha stage!! And the crowd ‘snaps’ galore.

      Curt

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    Lost Poem #1

    Small town Texas nights,Tiny me atop my roof,an asphalt-shingled perch  to spy upon the stars --There were so many then.Now I would need a ladder  halfway to the heavens  to see such finery  draped across our plains.A metaphor for...

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    • I was way too chicken to get on top of any roof. lol
      But I would lay on a trampoline at night which was so cool.
      Mostly because it felt like I was floating while gazing at the sky. Night or day. Didn’t matter.
      A nice escape – good for adults and kids.
      We all need them to stop thinking about reality sometimes.

    • Oh, I understand. Sometimes a kid’s just gotta do what a kid’s gonna do. And it’s always worth it — especially when you look back at it from the distant now, and realize how much more we had then. I have to think I knew it then, or I wouldn’t have done it. The only way it could last was in my memory.

    • Live in a building where they have locked the roof. But I would gaze out the window and dream. Lived on the top floor.

      • What a shame. I suggest you move to someplace with a roof. Or maybe just find a friend with a roof. Of course, you can always go to the country and find a hill with a good view of the sky. Or vacation in New Mexico or Utah, or some similar “Outside.”

    • hello dearest poet I feel the plight of humanity in and on my own body…we are not all so blind and unfeeling… great write ❤️

      • Thanks for the nice comment, but I’m uncertain of just how you “feel the plight of humanity on your body.” Tattoos? Scars? Burns? Something else? I’m insanely curious.

        • hello yes I have constant internal torure about the plight of humanity I cry when I see the homelss I pray God makes it warner for them and if they need drugs to give it to them…I feel their pain I’m schizophrenic and have been homeless in the past…we are all connected we all feel the despair some are just better at blocking it out…

    • That’s very interesting — and scary. It must be very difficult to live this way. I wish you peace and thank you for sharing.

    • You write the truth.
      Are we as a species , evolving or devolving.
      Keep up the good work as you say lots with very few words.🙏

    • Thank you, M. It’s funny, but I think of that time often, up on that roof. I can still feel the scratchiness of those asphalt shingles and smell the honeysuckle wafting up from our back yard. Wondrous times, wondrous nights.

    • Wow! From the roof, gazing at stars and beauty, to gazing at minds and blackness. I love it. I am still gathering material to my “roof” poem. I enjoyed reading your roof poem. Well done, FD “)

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