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    Broom wrote a new post

    Golden Quill

    If I had a quill made of goldthat wrote of stories, new and oldcreate new dreams and fairytaleson pages carried by silver sails sketch bright flowers with bumblebeesor babbling brooks with autumn leaveswrite of sorrow pain and griefor paint a...

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    twofiftythree wrote a new post

    look at me

    nonot that versionnot that onenot the pieces stitched togetherouta all the thingsyou needed me to be look at mehold it theredon’t let your eyes slide offdon’t try to soften the edges so you can keep your image of me see me little...

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  • April 27th - Down, Up, Along, As If Tomorrow Didn’t Exist

    April 27th beginsdown the stairs,all the way long,each step a small surrender,each landing a brief negotiationbetween gravity and will. It is a descentthat feels older than you,a movement inheritedfrom every fallyou’ve ever survived. But the day does not stay low.It never...

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    • That last stanza
      “And by the time it ends,
      you realize:
      you have traveled
      farther inside yourself
      than any map
      could ever show.”
      Par man that is gold

    • “And by the time it ends,
      you realize:
      you have traveled
      farther inside yourself
      than any map
      could ever show.”

      Brilliantly penned, PAR. Another excellent write (day) my friend. This one is definitely all about the miles traveled, journeys tend to do that it seems. Amazing read with precise imagery brother, I could picture the surroundings especially the highway. Nicely done as always. That last stanza was chef’s kiss. I concur with Fia. Appreciate you.

      Damian

  • April 27th – Down, Up, Along, As If Tomorrow Didn’t Exist

    April 27th begins
    down the stairs,
    all the way long,
    each step a small surrender,
    each landing a brief negotiation
    between gravity and will.

    It is a descent
    that feels older than you,
    a movement inherited
    from every fall
    you’ve ever survived.

    But the day does not stay low…Read More

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    2 Comments
    • Not sure I want to go inside myself that far PAR. I just might go inside so far that I see my self outside looking in. That would be a paradox, and people would say I am insane, more so than usual. So, while I enjoyed reading your poem very muchly, I think I will just sleep this 27th day of poetry away. Wake me up at 12:O1 on the 28th. (It is a…Read More

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