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I believe I have reached a point
of creative decline. Been on HP
since 2013. Close to 350 poems.
I may have thought and said
about all I have to offer.

Hard to come up with any real
original worthy material, the
old well might have run dry.
Or maybe my brain is growing
addled. That happens in our 80s.

In idle times I will still look in
on you all. I have enjoyed my
time here and made some fine
and talented writer and poet
friends. Thank you.

Adieu good and gentle people.
No illness or anything dire.
Just tired. I am thinking of
taking a pottery class.
The most violent

act I can conceive--

is putting myself in

her shoes.

Where a flame

crawled back to

wick.
They hit the beach
From the other way
So their ghosts
Could get compared
To that
They met in the fray
Went to see that new Wes Anderson number last night
Entitled The Phoenician Scheme
An excellent effort all round
Scene
By scene
By scene
I've always admired his movies
But this seemed a cut above
In pacing
Framing
And intensity
A true labour of love
But there seemed
Something extra
A deeper meaning
For me to take
The gods of cinema talking to me
Or perhaps
***** rice crispie cake.
King Kong
Went wrong
When they brought a blonde along
He only wanted to be loved
It could only end one way.
born in the artic snow
she chromed
her heart
in steel

flames could
not
touch that heart

always a half a step ahead
sure
a few stumbles
but never a fall

and moonlight is just
a heartache in disquise

till one day
leaning out a car window
a scar upon his cheek
and the luck of the draw

was the jack of hearts

and the queen of diamonds
had
never met
anyone
quite like

the jack

of hearts,

black-haired blue-eyed
her beauty inspired
stupid men
to commit foolish acts

and as he smiled
the queen of diamonds
thought she had

the jack of hearts,

blue sky shimmering
in her eyes

jack became
the brightness
of her day

and the jack of hearts
saw a flame
flickering in her eyes
that he had never seen
in any women's eyes
before ...
                
               act. 2

... a strange destiny
was unraveling
and one long poker hand
was over
and the snowflakes came
down like ashes
under the street light

and then
the jack of hearts
walked away

a pale spirit fleeing
a graveyard
into the wall of night

and the queen of diamonds
cried

the sea into sky

with eyes
like twilight
waiting

to eat away the day
 Jun 4 Whit Howland
nivek
one birds chirrup
can pierce the sky

the skylarks song
for its lovers heart..
Whoever you are
Wherever you're from
Pretty, ugly
Smart, dumb

Stand yourself up
Get out of that chair
Hold your head high
Put your hands in the air

Jump up and down
Dance all about
Bounce off the walls
And stick your tounge out

Twirl and leap
And spin and groove
It doesn't really matter
Just get up and move!

People will try
To tell you stop
Don't listen to them
Continue to bop!

Doesn't that feel good?
Doesn't it feel right?
To jam and sway
And feel feather-light
Stop letting people judge you, be yourself!
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