The Ladder
This is a dynamic ranking ladder of my poems that changes in real time as |
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home = www.epicdewfall.ca
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#811 | If I gave you moon dust. Would you throw it in the trash. Or forgive a man for soon must. If he was quiet enough to ask. _ |
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#812 | The world is exactly as exciting. As stimulation-levels too low recede. Like a poet saying you have a symbolism. As normal as wind blown deeds. _ |
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#813 | It was just a test. But was never removed. I'm glad it was just the two of us. Let's stay away from that stuff called guess what. As you can see it burns by wind gust. _ |
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#814 | A reed releases its seed to the wind. As the best effort it can possibly do. To ensure that the water level does not recede. Excuse me may I shy to you. _ |
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#815 | She dances inside my sky thoughts nightly. So I can never go up there. Staircases are-only for the idle. I will always rest down here. _ |
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#816 | Ready ready, hurry hurry! Snap the sorry cast on. Not for me. Not for tea. He's not even sure of Captain. _ |
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#817 | Comically given the dance of tune. Re-motorized for traction. Into the wells do never sweep. The truly half done action. _ |
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#818 | And here is the seven forty five. Right on times and true. And men begin the castings then. The wait at Shakespeare's shoe. _ |
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#819 | On the front yard lawns. I saw a horrible fight today. Infinity surrounded eons. Good thing I looked away. _ |
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#820 | Right for candy! Wrong for gold. My very-berry castings. Liver-shiver, I've been told. Is ripe, and filled till taskings. _ |
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#821 | But stars have beauty over there. Son, you have no passion. The rise in meadows have one bloom. The blue, of plastic masks on. _ |
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#822 | To be most proud of an empty quiver. And not wield a frozen whip. To stand in the way of an endless shiver. And not need a spoken quip. _ |
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#823 | Arrivals by an engine's evermore. The Frost-Goals, within two meek's. His paintings-divide each cup of tea. Her paintings-divide strong weeks. _ |
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#824 | I pondered the existence of. Might there be a perfect lake. I'll walk into after sun rain puddles. But like your eyes I'll hesitate. _ |
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#825 | If he measures good souls by their ounce of bad. And bad souls by their ounce of good. Santa Claus must sometimes be sad. And wish he held such a gem if he could. _ |
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#826 | Moonlight silhouette of a flea inside a parasite. On the stomach of mankind's all. A look to the curtains, a touch of the havens. And of course a wisdom's brawl. _ |
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#827 | To make a decision without the twist. When innocence gets that notion. To walk unwrung where writhe persists. That nice directionless motion. _ |
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#828 | I like second chances. And I've got a whole lot of it, for rotten doors. Can't you hear me! Dark glasses on! And for how many! Ok, everyone has a job. Cleaning "all that's behind" each sure. _ |
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#829 | Be quiet when you hold a human being. And try hard not to hurt their spin. Of all the creatures that near the Mozart. They'll have the thinest skin. _ |
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#830 | Listen to this idea? That weapons laugh. They crawl all the way up you. And eat you half. In Florida research is fine. Try asking a practice~target, "can you spare a dime". _ |
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#831 | That music is by Taneyev. Where I only hear note~b. Asking a mother. Would one-branch-make her a tree. _ |
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#832 | Front door clock with one foot tangled vines. Of a man who keeps his outings short. His full appreciation for real world maidens. But it's just his own errors he'll court. _ |
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#833 | Opportunity rains all night. But there is nowhere to go. Gone is sold on the bus. But song removed the road. _ |
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#834 | And when she looks at the raining frogs. And wonders why life is sad. Through endless darkened hallway windows. She sees my reflection glad. _ |
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#835 | DNA the lonely wishing machine. Like cue sticks trusting unknown. Nah! Ignore that silly pain. Quatrains know, their own way home. _ |
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#836 | Window open and the wind knows how. Could you teach me what should men do. Lonely like the autumn leaf. Is your friendly home like you. _ |
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#837 | A person ponders well that's odd. And sets the dials to zeros. A person yells that's the level. And sets the dials to heros. _ |
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#838 | In the fog over dimlyness. The tennis ball of calm seems near. But hark oh if to volley it. Which racket love or fear. _ |
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#839 | Presently on the semi-phone. I can almost hear the mega-tone. Current topic we discuss the most? Earl Dinkin super ghost. _ |
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#840 | Have you paid for parking yet? It's ok, because this is fun. Monopoly Good times at the rat house. To stay in the game go love. _ |
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home = www.epicdewfall.ca
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