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Damian DeadLove wrote a new post
18 Comments-
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Hello dearest Damian great write I feel this I often wonder if forgetting is a blessing or a curse ❤️
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Damian, this is strong tonic. I could feel this in my bones as I read. This i the stuff of poetry that feels like strong whiskey on the tongue. Sad but great writing.
John
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Older age? I know all too well the fading of a few things within myself!
Yet you haven’t lost your literary touch! You are blessed with talent, that hasn’t ebbed. Thankfully we write down our material, no need to remember them from scratch! LOL.
You still can kick some ass with a pen, Damian. Wield it high!-
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Mark. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Getting old isn’t without the fear of losing one’s self along the way. I’m just trying to hang in there. You’re much too kind, Dear Sir. But thank you for your continued support brother. Appreciate you.
Damian
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As you so often do, you stirred levels here again. I read this from the personal perspective of memories slipping. A sense of self lost in blips of time. I also see this as the world arena and how people have lost their sense humanity, their compassion, their community. Like the whole damn world has global amnesia. And I read it as literal amnesia from losing time in the form of blanks in memory from drink or drugs. Many layers, my friend
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Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Willow. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Well you know me, I love when there are multiple meanings and endless possibilities. lol. Sometime’s I think it’s probably little pieces of all those things rolled into one. I follow where my muse leads me. Appreciate you.
Damian
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Fia Naturie posted in the group ”BACK TO POETRY BASICS”
Here is Guillotine bi-trillets
The ring of steel bells. beckons us to hell
The audience ignores the sound
Multiple bodies hit the groundThe chiming goes on, sings a restless song
Unrelenting sorrowful tears
The heart shutters to stop in fearHope is so far gone, whispered please at dawn
Guillotine swinging in the sun
Eternal…Read More-
Gobsmacking good, Fia!

When you can take a form like this one you’ve never even seen before, observe a few easy details – then, with an earnest effort, turn it into such a creatively captivating poetic tale, makingi it seem effortless – now, that’s something to be proud of, because not everyone possesses this level of potential and/or natural…Read More
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Fia Naturie wrote a new post
8 Comments-
Bravo, Fia. You know how to tell a story my friend. This is really good, can’t wait to hear more. Take a bow!! Appreciate you, cuz.
Damian
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Never hearing your voice before, Fia 👀👂
I did not know what to expect, but I can’t say I’m disappointed in any way … actually, I was quite taken with how smoothly soft ‘n sultry, creamy ‘n smooth it is, as though my mind was being caressed through my ears on a warm, gentle breeze by a hundred dandelion flowers.
I heard no reason for the “Adult” sticker … YET, anyway. Now, at least, I’m prepared for any sweetly naughty surprise one might hope for!. ; p
Anyone ever tell you you’re a VERY talented lady?
YEP! That’s my outlook! ⁓ Richard🖌-
Thank you, Richard. I put the adult sticker because I figured I might as well start from the beginning. lol
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Damian DeadLove wrote a new post
18 Comments-
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First this can be both a poem and a song, it has the beat of a song. Second, You said in your note that instead of thinking wiser You rolled with it, but truth to be said your poem from first line to the final is all wisdom. For me this is a monologue with the inner self to make sense of what is not sense, To be aware of everything that happened and what is needed to be changed, the “had enough” and welling to breaking the patten of the same repeation is felt in the final verse, your poems always has a personal feeling and that make them special.
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Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Light. So glad you connected with the write my friend. I think it works either way myself. I must say I always enjoy your commentary and opinions, you’re pretty much on point with where I was going with this one. There are always pieces of me in my writes my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
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Oh damn, that last verse hit hard. After each of the other verses, it became a hammer of defiance. I’m not sure I believe in a norm. It always just strikes me as others expecting you to be more like them. Meet them at their level because they’re too lazy to move. To evolve. No thank you. This is another strong piece. And I think just rolling with it worked out beautifully, my friend
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Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Willow. So glad you connected with the write my friend. I don’t know that I believe in the norm either, I agree it’s like living up to the standard of others, funny thing is that they can’t live up to it themselves. But hypocrites love to snipe at others. So glad I rolled with it as well. Appreciate you.
Damian
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Damian when the illusions melt away and the masks are gone there is a great since of liberation as well as sadness. Not fitting in can make one feel alone but at the same time emancipated from a lifetime of being a square peg in a round hole. Truly great poetry here, my friend. You have given me the reader a glimpse into a life that is honest to oneself. I am most enriched to have read this.
John
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Fia Naturie posted in the group ”BACK TO POETRY BASICS”
Secret Ride (magic of Poetic Voice)
He came at night,
On a wind of heat.
A bead of sweat,
On lips so sweet.
“Come with me”
He whispered close.
They are all asleep,
Said, my sexy host.
I crawled out of bed.
On crumpled sheets.
A teddy that cling,
To my heat.
Just be quiet.
It will be fun.
No one will know,
Not even one.
Once ins…Read More-
Ahhh, Fia

I so love and enjoy the fun of how you’ve used your amazingly gifted poetic voice to blend the vibrant colors, hues, and textures of your deliciously delightful diction to paint word pictures into our joy-filled imaginations, in such ways it all comes to life.
Your short lines build a quick cadence, and with spot-on line-bnreaks, r…Read More
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Amnesia, would be a lonely thing for a poet of the forgotten. This was exquisite, Damian.