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      Damian DeadLove
      @damiandeadlove
    • Different Spin

      Too many faces are only memories now Not so clear anymore on all the stories It seems time closed the door somehow Running off the fumes of passing glories   Innocent witness being lead to slaughter Blood laced misery saturates murky water   Silence eats slowly on...

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      11 Comments
      • “Silence eats slowly on words never,” said. Damn that is the truth, Nice Damian.

        • Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Fia. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Very truthful line, indeed. Appreciate you.

          Damian

      • Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Mary. So glad you connected with the write my friend. I have that effect on some women. lol. I talk and they have literally told me it’s too early, my wife still does say it sometimes. lol. You have a great day as well. Appreciate you.

        Damian

      • Not enough time when we are living in the good times. When they are over it makes us feel alone. Great ink.

      • I swear, time is a traitor & the mind is it’s accomplice. And what we don’t say weighs more than all the memories. You go right ahead on & express yourself at any hour. I get told all the time “it’s too early” for me. I refuse to live on somebody else’s clock. Thats the beautiful thing about poetry…it isn’t on a timer. As always, your words resonate, my friend

        • Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Willow. So glad you connected with the write my friend. It is all of that, time, it truly does call the balls and strikes. But, I march to a different beat. It is a wonderful thing, poetry has kept me from having a nervous breakdown. I’m sure of it. Appreciate you.

          Damian

      • Lately, I remember someone that I hadn’t thought of in decades. Or, I see a face in another face and can’t put a name to who they looked like. I’m terrible with faces. I had my mother’s sewing machine after she died. My sister wanted it and told me she was sending her husband to pick it up. I knew Bill. I was at their wedding. He was at family getogethers (mostly funerals but a couple holiday). My doorbell rang and I opened it up. I looked in his eyes and asked, “Can I help you?” Of course his response was, “I’m Bill?” I don’t know where my head was at that day. Good write. I have to try some shorter ones. Mine just runaway on me.

        • Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Paula. So glad you connected with the write my friend. I’ve had moments like that, believe me. lol. Appreciate you.

          Damian

    • Profile picture of NAAJIR

      NAAJIR wrote a new post

      Lucifer's Garden

        If the eyes are indeed the windows to the soul then where better to begin the harvest but here in a garden  thousands of years from Eden where heathens huddle and scheme  using inception to infiltrate  our dreams ...   ..and so began the fertilization by...

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      • “a carbon copy of creation’s
        carbon based design
        debased…defaced
        vandalized
        soon to erased
        by those who would scandalize
        the most basic of human interactions
        replaced by something
        unrecognizable
        where hardly anything makes sense
        these days simply because
        it was meant to make sense
        to someone else”

        Naaj, that last stanza drove it home my friend. Brilliantly penned, and you brought receipts throughout. A Masterpiece, brother. Into the book it belongs! Much respect. Appreciate you.

        Damian

      • I’d like to bookmark this but I’m not sure if I did or not. Still navigating like a Luddite here lol. I see you’ve been keen to the dark doings for some time. I’m somewhat of a tinfoil hat veteran myself. Once you merge science with spirituality there is no going back, and nothing can ever be unseen. It takes fortitude…and it’s been taking more & more as the years fly. This resonates, thanks for the posting!

        • You’re right about merging the spirit and science. That’s great insight. Much appreciation for your thoughts, Benjamin.

          Much respect

          Naaj

      • An excellent observation on the dumbing down of America. People have become subservient to their phones. They don’t ask questions and they don’t think for themselves anymore. Tic Tock has poisoned so many young people alone. Interaction has been minimalized and your line about big brother is so true. We’re being manipulated for someone else’s benefit.

      • You’re about Tik Tok. That’s a very dangerous site. Big thx for the support, Tim
        Much appreciated.

    • SpotLight - Damian DeadLove

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R3QlgtJUdCI&t=2s

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      • Wow, that’s awesome. What a sexy voice, Damian. Cool idea too.

        • Thanks so much for listening, DK. Glad you enjoyed the interview my friend. I have bass in my voice, lol. So I’m told anyway. It was all Fia’s idea to record it, I thought it was cool as well. Appreciate you.

          Damian

      • That was so much fun. Thank you for the interview, Damian

      • I think these are so cool. Everyone likes to be heard, and everyone has a story. It was also a great idea for you to be the final interview. Protest poetry haha. Maybe anarchy poetry? Plenty of subjects this world has.

        • Thanks so much for listening, Nick. Everyone does love to be heard, and most writer’s including me love to talk. lol. A million subjects out there. Thanks for the support my friend. Appreciate you.

          Damian

      • I’m so glad this one made it’s showing. I was going to ask whose page it was gonna end up on but ya beat me to it. It needs to be here! Man behind the questions. And now a new chapter begins? Who’s next, my friend?

        • Thanks so much for listening and your kind words, Willow. So glad you enjoyed the interview my friend. Fia, was cool with it being presented with the others. I’m glad it’s here as well. Time will soon tell. Appreciate you.

          Damian

    • Profile picture of S. Libellule
      Liminalicity

      It remains so hard to then hedge,when you live here on the edge—live on the cusp of life and death,separated by only a single breath. Peering down from this height,within a dark and endless night—a never-ending sea of black ink,here,...

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