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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#961 | When we set sail; "at the Land we laughed". Trust me I just want to thank you Mast. You hate me "and that hurts me"; friend. When over-rover Slows You down I hen. _ |
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#962 | A man so worried. His "square bailing can" might offend. So he writes poetry. Until he's round again. _ |
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#963 | Tangles be my corner shop. Her hair, the yellow rose. To stare forever into the mop. And never banter prose. _ |
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#964 | I Imagine we are authors of our own lives. But we are never allowed to curb. With only enough time to think "what word comes next". During the second we urged last world. _ |
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#965 | A universe with so much to learn. But oh I'm crushed by gloom. For all I know are simple things. And you just left the room. _ |
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#966 | Now I understand poker. To aim one must not stray. To make the sound of thunder. Some dreams must be thrown away. _ |
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#967 | I'm in love with Normalcy. I seen her twice near Perfect Lake. She had no reason to make a choice. But there's no such way to hesidate. _ |
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#968 | Can you! Can you! Can you! My coat was to cover you. Oops! My contract is worthless. Benny, can you lend her a dew. _ |
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#969 | I recently painted a blank hole in a painting. By removing a superman with boxing gloves. And then in the streets I saw men unfighting. Just like the way unbacking does. _ |
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#970 | A man with an unblockable view of the moon. By duplicating himself like a robot. Odd floppy airplane that will never fly. At bottom of lake facing hill top. _ |
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#971 | My cat sees continents in the corners. And constellations in the jars. And though I never say good morning. I see near things in the fars. _ |
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#972 | Let me raise a toast to artists. Dreams and atoms are just lots of dots. With the only way to be or see things. They connect the dots with thoughts. _ |
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#973 | I saw an amazing thing today. A choice was right or wrong. Inner judgment was weak as may. So atoms were quite strong. _ |
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#974 | Yes I have a Bible. I carry it everywhere outside my moments. If you're trying to bury it. You can start with all the glides of orbits. _ |
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#975 | Do it yourself. Suit yourself. Have a nice time and fun. Too bad for me, I'm like a person. Stronger when I was young. _ |
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#976 | The larger the lesson the less fine the teacher. The Force can crush submarines or wine. With hope abandon I ping my trust. You get one chance every dine. _ |
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#977 | Kindle wood is very fairly. Ready. But I don't need that nup. Whining is very very rarely. In tune with science coming up. _ |
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#978 | Where does mind hide high fidelities. And level thoughts of my favourite melodies. Songs so stung by such tall keepers. And played so wrong, on each life's small speakers. _ |
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#979 | If a teacher is mad at a student. And a large red bird flies in through totality. If it lands on that student's finger. Is that the nature of reality? _ |
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#980 | I'm not going to lie about my feelings for Emily. You see, I told you. There's no way I could lift the night. Try it again. I have faith in you. But this time you are-going to use actual-instincts, right? _ |
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#981 | Until the announcements, are completely different. I will hear these yesterdays at nine. I'm alone, and where's the party. Say it say it. Say these words like crime. _ |
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#982 | Put the caps on soon and make it rain not end. Spin it around your head. Over and over again, remember what they said. A car is your friend. _ |
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#983 | Begin by being dead and be over fifty. Start carrying your bicycle null. And force ideas more like that. Some unknown. Some scope-full. _ |
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#984 | Chest pains super hot. What the hell was that? Head trauma, where do you port? Storm's a-coming. Come here and fort. _ |
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#985 | There will be a bridge tomorrow. As sexy passes the butter. Elope with her mother nature. Be glad as-tell you love her. _ |
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#986 | Because I want to stay informed. I read newspapers of our world at play. But in my mind I see their real mastheads. The Plague of Thin Skins Today. _ |
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#987 | Many white boats docked working hard. At achieving perfect singled positioning. Long before the history of sand. The more of man was listening. _ |
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#988 | It is not dust that I would harvest. My work to be done like chandeliers. So often when I look to artists. I don't bring my can of years. _ |
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#989 | If and when a song is cost. A recital hears a note wean. Know it was a gentle loss. If when and soft a tone gleams. _ |
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#990 | I look to the poets at the helms. Finesse is a gentle stern. Never pointless they only speak. When culture needs to turn. _ |
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home = www.epicdewfall.ca
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