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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#1201 | Plastic chips in goldman sacs. Only hearts can hell. Petty standings have heard the wishing. Down with inner tells. _ |
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#1202 | Extra extra read "All about it Fears". Sound will not yield a matching star. Lint can vary news by up to 3 years. A man is trying to grow moonbeams in a jar. _ |
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#1203 | Have you found the socks yet. Yeah. Those band-aids for the soul. In that river called the-washer. A "lust" that strong I know. _ |
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#1204 | With headboards for such dreaming. Such a climb it said. Wakening for one moment. That's radical screamed a thread. _ |
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#1205 | Gentlemen "man" your teacups. Awesomeness must be fed. And no one enters such a club. Whom coffee burns instead. _ |
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#1206 | This man is genius. About things I want to know. Like Cemetery fishing. Big destinies. Dark Mittens. My corner. My kitchen. flies within my bowl. _ |
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#1207 | Or some times a dog carrier. Like so many things attached to horses. So many arguments. And so much talking. I want to thank all kitchen forces. _ |
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#1208 | And a vast machine, that the penny hogs. Sleeping while I'm awake. Is it a dance machine? Or a passion machine? No one will see me wait. _ |
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#1209 | Waiting, listening and freezing. For Gotcha Gotcha. Mouse. Tonight the air is telling stories. It's paradigm devout. _ |
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#1210 | Take a day like Tuesday for instance. Strange how the clouds roll in. Beach Restrictions bumping my nose. Till Friday knights' her friend. _ |
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#1211 | Dogs have it home so long. Tired in the gym as if that's the function of meat. But I'm too old for exercise. How I miss remembered heat. _ |
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#1212 | Yes "beyond" the "clock" is the giant door. That I came back to see. Elliptographs "in all directions". Where do "they" sell such greed. _ |
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#1213 | Gentlemen awaken. We "absolute" of name. As-sane as hardly any left. Salute "dog bowls" hold all same. _ |
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#1214 | Dilute belief there are scientists here. I think Recklessness is here again. Nine or One, also make good pets. Just the rain old-fun. _ |
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#1215 | There are "signs" that "all" are equal sir. Rover, Rover, Run. I have the coordinates memorized sir. Do we dare "define" what's fun. _ |
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#1216 | Discouragement. Within the morning-pour. Where avenues spell the words "one cup". To those who read rain more. _ |
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#1217 | Bishop. In the factory brain. The longest commute to-make such art. And poems so glad you came. _ |
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#1218 | Society. Now that's a heavy clock. If anyone ever finds it. Lord knows it's dust will not. _ |
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#1219 | Have you ever seen come-hithers? Were-they paintings? Or inner thoughts? Did they quote their own-commas. Did rain ever-fill such pots. _ |
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#1220 | Ragu. Rises to the melting-spot. And listens to the neuron fires. And cooks a river's thought. _ |
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#1221 | Time to hit the brown stone then. Spinning is almost art. Forgive the mess. I'm cleaning up. The engine parts that start. _ |
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#1222 | And Falconry. Apartments in the dark. And curtains. With talons for-missed such-heart. _ |
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#1223 | Searching for a better-snow. An alphabet that's for livings. A disabled wind that keyboards-know. The installer left for Lemmings. _ |
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#1224 | Here she comes now resting too. Landing on the winters. Holding out an arm for two. Returned keys for beginners. _ |
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#1225 | Victorians never feared that mist. But why did they save on moss. Like the search for treasured gold. I guess I'll need such loss. _ |
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#1226 | We sing on cats and stranger toes. A little to the right. With all organic means to do so. Toe's-friend is sand at-night. _ |
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#1227 | You're too silly on a dock. Tip-generously tippy-toe. Anger-nests near being-sure. There are Women. Report their glow. _ |
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#1228 | I dreamed that you took my picture. With a one pixel camera gleam. I became the average of all I've done. I wonder what that means. _ |
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#1229 | Anyone can copy. A daughter and a show. High uplifting Samsonite. Please visit away the "stow". _ |
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#1230 | Five feet in any direction. Your mysteries await. To hold a riddle in your hand. The bottomless kind you hate. _ |
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home = www.epicdewfall.ca
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