Even if dollars mattered such
that there be on offer a ransom a googol dollars worth, it would be only ... unjust For in the place of a single word from the nib of your quill; I'd stay my fist tightly clenched My head i'd make to starboard tilt So my ears are rendered extraordinarily poised. Balanced on the keel, overcome by rapture As breath prayers are intoned by the motion of my lips while they recite: Blessed are we that Thou fortune mingles here. There be only One, One Oh One tom my boy A Mighty fine poet at that |
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Edited by
Dreadaye
on
Thu 07/30/15 03:41 PM
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On And On - Missy Elliott ft. Pharrell Williams
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Killer Joe - Benny Golson
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Edited by
Dreadaye
on
Thu 07/30/15 09:45 AM
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Jive Talkin' - Bee Gees
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Edited by
Dreadaye
on
Thu 07/30/15 06:50 AM
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"For our sanctuary remains in the garden of our language of the earth and the sea. "
As ever Tommyboy, your pen remains true to service; curating fathomless depths of meaning in every image that you lovingly restore. As a Poet you break bread with us, that we might sup upon the lettering you thoughtfully dispense. Thank you, Child of Nethun, this corner of www is a truly Illumined place for your presence. Regards Always Aye'm Dread |
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Vision Of Love - Mariah Carey
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Everybody Loves The Sunshine - Roy Ayers
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Cruisin - Smokey Robinson
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Topic:
Crystal's Oil Paintings
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Outstanding
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Is This Love - Bob Marley & The Wailers
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Club le Narciss - Malcolm McLaren
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Back In Stride - Frankie Beverly & Maze
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Topic:
Sirens Presence
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Evocative. Like it.
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Yesterday Once More - The Carpenters
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IQ84 - Haruki Murakami
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Edited by
Dreadaye
on
Wed 07/15/15 03:12 AM
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A wonderful thing - yes I am certain there are others yet to be experienced - about exploring existence from a posthumous standpoint, is that many, many matters that once preoccupied the self are found to have faded to beige; lacking real meaningful prominence. Such that casting a look toward them from this new standpoint the arc of one's eyes would be described as more askance than a discerning glance. As though from the bowels reverie see them there: worries, negativity, opinions, chattering voices. All now incapable of rousing the same passionate defence and/or rancorous offence. Naught more than make-believe made to lay down in a pose denoting afterlife. No more beats. No more drums. No more rhymes.
'Twas it all about the reasons we elevated into obstacles to deny our coming into full-bloom of our own seasoned purpose? Is that all it was? And if so wtf next?! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1WuLUkd-lI Remember... Post-NEW CLE AR Pulse beep-beeping at below zero. Deceased confirmed dead on arrival. The Dropped-Dead beat Poets Emporium .... a preview. Always a preview. |
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Trenchtown Rock - Bob Marley & The Wailers
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Naughty Times - Cutty
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A.E.I.O.U - Freeze
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Wishing On A Star - Rose Royce
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