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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#2401 | The greatest gift from her heart. A woman can give a man. He will never own his own election. He's given one by plan. _ |
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#2402 | Somewhere out there I know she rests. With eyes as soft as home. A new tube shaped sloth creature. Walking across a developing land alone. _ |
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#2403 | The sun hits my pillow to end cold and announce. But your name is too long for its shine to pronounce. It will see you sitting just the right way everyday. But names become longer with each thing that we say. _ |
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#2404 | Bolts of lightning are like careers. They take the easiest paths. And retirement is like the thunder. Which echoes of the past. _ |
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#2405 | I'm sorry I don't have a battery. But would no stillness do? Let me wet a finger of universes. And determine which way's new. _ |
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#2406 | Buoyancy and solemnness. Hold them as two weary funs. One thing can only fold them though. Raindrops and solariums. _ |
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#2407 | What a world of circumstances. Could sparklize our fate. Here's a pi for our desert. I hope I'm not too late. _ |
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#2408 | We cross harsh and barren lands. And fight such snow and rain. But no one who even sits at home. Can avoid emotional terrain. _ |
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#2409 | Now he sits home and clings to wrong gravity things. And occasionally out he will go. To see right gravity people in right gravity places. And to touch right gravity things. _ |
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#2410 | Oh and could you please become warm to touch? Not as cold as a morning clutch. Not as hot as a favorite scream. Thanks alot dear movie screen. _ |
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#2411 | There's a reason known by no one special. Who I'm sorry but I can't dance for. If you have to ask a mighty question. You're not empty enough for and sore. _ |
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#2412 | To blame no animals and no human sins. To look upon the gone and cry. To hold your world as bland begins. To accept its words and try. _ |
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#2413 | A million decisions all day from. Each between come nor gone. But as a person better becomes. The difference hums not that long. _ |
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#2414 | To choose is this a heaven. To lose is this a hate. Wish like grow is everywhere. Pressure finds escape. _ |
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#2415 | When I get to know the nighbors. Neighbors they will be. In this new era of nighbors. Neighbors must like tea. _ |
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#2416 | And all throughout the heavens. The suns show off their glare. But only woman shines so bright such light. That hearts would want to share. _ |
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#2417 | All paintings are actually worthless. And all paintings are priceless too. To save yourself alot of misery. Don't reverse your belief of this clue. _ |
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#2418 | Oh let me tell you stories cold. That no one can compare. There is a place so lovely. Called the tv static stare. _ |
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#2419 | A toast then to the history of mystery. Where to listen instead would be prudent. When toasting champagnes or campaigns. A joust is always won by the student. _ |
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#2420 | The sides of a ladder are made with cuddles. A lifetime's length in size. And the rungs of a ladder are made with troubles. In every heart one hides. _ |
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#2421 | A contest winning drawing by a child. Titled hallway to a nightclub for the bored. I look for you there in the lonely hours. Until drawn where the reason is stored. _ |
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#2422 | As the master chose a brush. And the paint did chose a time. Can we choose a person anywhere. Who did not help choose one line. _ |
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#2423 | When you see a second hand. I hope you see the years. And when you see a second man. I hope you see his tears. _ |
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#2424 | There's a satellite in orbit with a large hotdog. Kept clamped at its core unchased. It may have the last clear view of a sky. Before cell phones have filled up space. _ |
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#2425 | I know what mistakes are for now. They help art distort the lines. I dreamt I tripped and kissed her. I tripped a thousand times. _ |
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#2426 | I'll make true art when it says nothing. And nothing has not spoken clear. The heart is a mighty master. But so is what we can't hear. _ |
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#2427 | If I believed in you hard enough. I was sure that you'd appear. Just like, how a snow flake. Can wish to join a tear. _ |
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#2428 | Are moms made of pictures. Or are pictures made of mom. And when she takes a photo. Where has likeness gone. _ |
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#2429 | I behold a fragment of load stone. It too is molded of hardest why. That know that heeds no return to. Loneliness when parents die. _ |
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#2430 | Artists and poets are found by witch hunt. And humanity is searching it's true. Just keep pointing an admiring finger at others. And hope they don't point one at you. _ |
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home = www.epicdewfall.ca
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