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GregMuller
Set out from the sandy shore. The lake an everlasting Paramore. The boat breaths like my hearty chest Up and down upon the waves white-tipped crest Overhead the birds squawk in a one-note tune. Like a harpsichord playing an unknown song. Turning away from the sun The blue ocean becomes glum Black sunglasses fall further on my face. Water droplets still find my smiling face. Sailing wind drives us away from my starting place A Call A Shout. Turning on my breath A shoreman’s happiest wish A fresh face for whom to softly kiss. The boat turns toward our shore. Leading us to both softly tip Without a word on our fearless lips Docking us once more Upon the sandy shore.
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Mar 10, 2020
Mar 10, 2020 at 12:08 PM UTC
Voyage on The Lake
Wood creeks Ignored for their own work. Sweat dollops came from rope tying Strength of communication: my name was said twenty paces away. Disappointing my feet, they lost their navigation. Cracking my shoulder into someone shorter. wind past my ears. her safety: my worry. Bent my knees she did not scream Tree nuts candied in my dreams highlighted her eyes. Smile, with each other. Pushing her to stand I held her hand Spoken our trips to previous lands. choosing to be each others to to the others fro
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Feb 19, 2020
Feb 19, 2020 at 8:25 AM UTC
Pirates Find Love
turn the keys "we will see you tomorrow!" control the road. a familiar route. the same way home as before meditative in his silence the car tires skid. authorities would say the rain froze the overpass road bam, mercy please come for me into his mind a goddess was pleased to meet. whispering hands silver light had no shadow traveling without walking through a doorway made of nothing to a land attached to creating re-claiming friends, playing and laughing once more.
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Feb 5, 2020
Feb 5, 2020 at 11:50 AM UTC
Atlas to the Afterlife
Forty tears were pooled in his eyes. A reality of hardship sunk in Capsizing a boat of fears. his parents had left him a penniless bloke his time would be spent trying to stay afloat The daily news would house all the jahbs the other families & friends were pointing him away from trouble He would meet a new boss. A stomach never tiring of crisscrosses When he sat -down inspection began Was he trusted to be a stan Finally accepted he began forging minerals The door closed at the home. The company issued tools. Heavy iron forged together with mighty wood. Clear yellow lights illuminated the mine’s dark A new spot would be all to him. He began picking and digging The earth's rocks, and dirt. Learning other names was to be his strong suit. But ability and strength left him with cahoots. Soon heart's pumped laughs Sending echo’s down the earth mine's shaft Curing the ailed eyes Of a boy with no ties
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Feb 4, 2020
Feb 4, 2020 at 10:35 AM UTC
Mine Shaft of Laughs
One two three hundred of Iceland's sailors. Leaning on the finance from our big servant Departure had little fan-fare But what did they care A summer’s Blinding heat A ship loaded packed with wheat As Night’s grasp grew. Our maps battery did too. Leaving tonight. I kissed my wife. Across the sky ten times. The sun blazed our horizon’s on the same side. Food getting lighter, our bellies yearning for dinner Mutiny, mutiny, mutiny. I wasn’t going to differ. Two days later. Our top man, who saved the evenings with good chatter. Gave our crew the word. Land ** you ***** rappers. Looking across the sea, putting our withering hands above our knees. My eyes glistened, had we come to Griffen. Our final steps, until our land, was pushing forward and backward. Onboard the land, our sea legs, outstretched our hands. Aliens, and sailors, leaving together. What are they saying New food to chew. Gave the crew a push to rearrange our mast Setting sail back to our past. The cheers were loud, and we are all proud. As each one of us was the sailor that lead a mutiny crowd.
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Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 8:28 AM UTC
Death's Journey Across the Ocean
Plush cushions for a wood green hut Indigent, arrogance, and Omniscience Learned counterpart owned the seats Grey, humble, Shamen Pure fear, unmoving in his discourse Pure love, uplifting in his seat Time calls for action. Was he willing? Yes--preparation inside the wood tree hut. Inside the young man’s mouth Chewed a taste of bubble gum worn out For one hour they waited Sitting comfortably, and waited Blood Red skinned Demons peel off the roof Razor Talons swinging Razor Talons scratching at our young man’s head. Our shamen waits, unmoving, calming, and encouraging Inside his breath was a spell. To calm, and quell any foe. A cool breath froze the winged ******** Sending them back to where they came Time passes A mind now healed like a band-aid covering a wound His mind was pulled closer. Our young man returned his eyes to the wood green hut Seeing the old man, smiling for his own part A street-wide smile was sent back Leaving the seat he thanked him with complete Love for each other, and all mankind
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Feb 2, 2020
Feb 2, 2020 at 8:18 AM UTC
Pathways To Peace
Metallic hinges squeaked and then squawked Single sliced rubber seat swung under a lime green bar. An adolescent boy. Bemoaning his brother’s turn. Heave, ** Swinging hard. Capturing the tops of trees. Leaning a few feet off the ground returning once more with fast pace. Rose-colored cheeks, squinted, One tear then two, until both cheeks puffed Runway skids in the wood chips. Cruised him to a halt. Sniffles, and tears were handled Hand in hand They were scripted together for life.
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Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 9:03 AM UTC
Scripted Pathways