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Igorgoldkind1
Igorgoldkind1
57/M/San Diego, California San Diegan Igor Goldkind is an author, and producer of advanced media technology. At 14, Goldkind served as a volunteer Science Fiction coord. for the now wildly popular San Diego Comic Con. In 2015, his project IS SHE AVAILABLE? combined Poetry & Comics
Paper Bag I am a paper bag, I am. I’m not the smart one, I’m not the successful one I’m not the tall one who always won and  Then died.  I am a paper bag. I’m only as good as what I can carry. I am a paper bag,  I’m not plastic, not I. I am paper: rough, brown and thin I’m not waterproof, you know. And I can’t hold any liquids or gases within. I only have room for the stuff that matters. I’m a paper bag. I’m only as good as what I can carry. I am a paper bag. Wrinkled and used and often abused Thrown on the floor. Buried deep inside your drawers. I am a paper bag.  That sometimes falls apart I’m only as good as what I can carry. ©IgorGoldkind 2018
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 12:18 PM UTC
Paper Bag
Thoughts are merely pebbles Being gently washed by a passing stream. You are the stream. Thoughts are merely pebbles on a beach Being gently rounded by crashing waves. You are the waves. Thoughts are merely pebbles in the sand. Being gently worn away by the passing wind. You are the wind My words escape on. Words are merely thoughts Being gently read by a passing eye. Yours are the eyes That can read my thoughts.
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 12:16 PM UTC
Pebbles
I'm a good catch.
 I can see the thin edge where your tire hits the road. I can see the stone that you just threw,   Skip halfway across the world
 This world slipping past your fingertips. I can hear your ears listening to the wind I can see your eyes greeting the world   I can see your intent summon its consequence I can see this in you because I can see this in me. You are the sender, and what you send. I am just reflection; An open-palmed receiver of your gifts. But I'm a good catch. I can catch a falling girl, faster than a falling star.
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Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 4:53 AM UTC
I'm a Good Catch
I didn’t get her name. It was a hot and wet Saturday night; So I left the screen door wide open Hoping for some kind of change in the weather. She strolled in like the queen of Sheba riding the night’s breeze,  Her inspection was clearly on schedule. She let me imagine that it was my company that she was after. By earnestly engaging my eyes with her face Which she put close to mine and stared into my eyes As if she were the last soul left on earth who still loved me.   All the while she scanned the kitchen floor 
Out of the corner of her sharp feline eye, Having assessed my modest, meagre means She walks straight back out the door she had walked in. Leaving me staring at the empty space she had deliberately left behind.
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 11:06 AM UTC
My Alley Cat
Like a firefly fluttering between the twin palms of my hands... Just let me cling to your light, For the rest of the night   and I’ll be alright.
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
Firefly
Kali swirls her flaming dress, Eyes flashing, she cracks open the sky above your head. Kali beckons and seduces, then pulls you in, Before devouring your mind. With her insatiable, irresistible desire.
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
Kali, the Destroyer of Worlds
An aesthetic is a polished stone of truth. Where beauty shines its insight Onto a multitude of reflective curves and planes. Small wonder the world smiles upon the couplet Who have shifted the surfaces they slipped from. Orpheus and Eurydice reunited: Having finally tripped out of the cave and into the sun. Their outward smiles shining with the inner joy of a sight regained: Love is the greatest beauty of them all.
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 10:58 AM UTC
The Truth of Beauty
So who is this Soul that you sing of? This silent witness Who counts the leaves off of trees instead of gathering them? And raking them into a funerary pile, Into the giant pile that your better self will fall from, Or jump into. Up to your eyeballs, Up to your own private crown of thorns.
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 10:57 AM UTC
Your Soul
A boy goes to school
 And tears his schoolmates apart
 With metal piercing bullets.
 This is normal now.
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 10:56 AM UTC
Haiku
Riding a Motorcycle Before I start my engine I know where I am going. The motorcycle and I are one. If the motorcycle goes fast, I go fast. If the motorcycle goes slow I go slow. If the motorcycle goes too slow I fall over. Ouch!
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 10:55 AM UTC
Motorcycle Zen