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 Mar 2016 Joyce
Sarah
Words
 Mar 2016 Joyce
Sarah
Words are my kind of showing my feelings.
Not always with my mouth. Mostly with a pen.

Words are my kind of showing my feelings.
Not always right, but always open.

Words are my kind of showing my feelings.
Not always like all, but always me.

Words are my kind of showing my feelings.
Not always agreeable, but always free.
 Feb 2016 Joyce
The Dedpoet
Enormous earth
Crawling over water,
The eagle's flap is a whirlwind
Across sudden forests,
Tops like pointed greenery
And formidable roots.

She is caught in the moonlit aureole,
Shimmering like waves on stars,
The wears her flattery,
The echoes of enchantment.

Stilled in a frame, through a window,
Adrift in the generations of home,
Wrapped in memory, a picture
Remains,

Visions like a poet in a new world
Held captivated by the blue sun
In the diamond reflecting reflections
In the depths of the endless Word.
 Feb 2016 Joyce
Dead lover
Can't the rain, hear our pain-

To shower again,
When meet the lovers insane?

And drain the strain,
Inculcated by their brains?
Step upon rose petals
One by one gently
Don't hesitate


life is a continental dispersity
                            Grab your depth
                             Onto what's left
                              Unsaid and do

                                                       Transfix the sunrays
                                                        G­ather them in a left
                                                         Hand, handful burn
typhoons of tender typographies churn

Grab the liar by the hair roots
And pull yourself out of muddy
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