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Adagio
1 hour ago
Savannah

Stories

Series

With gothic melodies, peat's dark hole listing to twilight's pale shade of the saplings chaffed wheat and pallid hours, soundless tweet a tempest within my ominous sagaciously winging your soul, cold blows the midnight songs lurking the beast, in my am in...

...in death coming close, brushing the moon, my decaying corpse, to kissing my birth, laying down playing dead, with my fate touching my body, once the eyelids, in life wearing masks over my genitals, nothing to read, except for my obituary, dust drifting...

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55 words 55 words

Among the dead, we are curious. We are haunted. You scream for ice cream, and we scream out of loneliness. Walking the halls of death leaving no footprints or shadows. At times tossed out with the trash, once scented, now lost. As ghosts, we have no pedig...

...with cello strings in nature's woods in the silence of an unspoken tree to the edge of forever, I see drinking deep the inevitable the aroma of coffee and only me and patience in living in nature incorporating life into prayer and myths listening to wi...

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71 words 71 words

Listening to fool's chatter the hypocrisy of dark's inquisitor "my God, what has happened, with fire over the waterfall?' name brands deceiving pedophile roses and politicians lying and skeleton stems of man and beast food for carrion look for the shadow...

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91 words 91 words

Chaos, unpredictable running helter-skelter burning down homes flinging stones scripted but no King David crazy, deranged addiction, intoxication madmen insane everything woke Prozac made in China logjams, bridges block one-way streets with speed bumps an...

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70 words 70 words

Beneath a tin can sky of indigo-blue and the doves can coo on nature's mother earth adorning the Ponderosa Pines with a basketful of jubilation as God's shells sunlight cascading over babbling brook and Ebenezer stones in poetic Genesis and the doves can...

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Getting my nude on beneath the Hippocratic eyes of dubious doubters who have lost bouquets being the squatters to observe the nakedness of you and I focusing on the shadow of my being into the midst of recurring dreams my own Michelangelo and not someone'...

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89 words 89 words

Just me and my muse, at play in a field of wishful thinking, so I sow my own seeds and reap the sweetness of my family. You don't know me, a well-worn pen, assuming me wrong, in blind eyesight. But that's the way I am wary, not a fool. Sarcastically, my f...

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105 words 105 words

Come home to me my rose bud Ebb Tide, rising, in lieu of dark roses, a beautiful flower was, as the song, loves a woman, so flows emotions, softly now walking with the silent winds and the faded blooms of yester-hour's crying.

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42 words 42 words

I give you my progeny, disassembled, therefore, I am, my am, in memory of long ago, non-relevant you the sun, I a passing willow, at a distance from a dream I incognito, disassembled, a shadow on the window pane with Amador Whiskey over ice now here comes...

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"Well, how old do you think I am." There is nothing titillating about nudity. Its a lifestyle. Once you are naked, you're naked. The maniacs of Cheetos push nudism as a cult. I could say the same thing about "singers" in Nashville wearing cowboy hats. The...

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159 words 159 words

What is it about memento mori, that she didn't understand? She was a good ol' dame but came up lame in the fast lane of life, knocking back nachos. Then came the corpse and the fairy in the morgue, that stole her love from Uncle Hurley. Harry is something...

Let's not pillow talk with the silence of my pen and thorn-threaded leaf, only the deaf can scream of the darkness ambition drowned in Eden unveiled by Adam now in my mausoleum oblivious to the masonry impending my doom in this seedbed of weevils and grub...

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The recent haints in the turnip patches, rumored to be poultrygeist chickens, zombified. Possessed with a fetish for mooning late-night diners at the A&W. Frightening the bejesus out of local crawdads eaters. It just so happen, that last night, Jimmy Swag...