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*I play the guitar and write poetry because I have to , it's something I work my way through each night , emptying my mind on paper , a few thoughts committed to music , score books penciled in , erased , odd collaborations reaching logical conclusions , the first note becoming the last , a forest fire of a past out of control , easing the conflagration with timely prose , ascending , descending scale combinations , every memory both good and bad streaking past , the mad writer with his muse on his lap , disclosing his theory , some nights writing his own obituary , as if anyone understood , melody is chopping wood for the instrumentally inclined , something to chip away the night , something to help you turn off the lights , to dream , revisit , reinvent , work your way through to write again* ...
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
Fanning the Flame ...
*I play the guitar and write poetry because I have to , it's something I work my way through each night , emptying my mind on paper , a few thoughts committed to music , score books penciled in , erased , odd collaborations reaching logical conclusions , the first note becoming the last , a forest fire of a past out of control , easing the conflagration with timely prose , ascending , descending scale combinations , every memory both good and bad streaking past , the mad writer with his muse on his lap , disclosing his theory , some nights writing his own obituary , as if anyone understood , melody is chopping wood for the instrumentally inclined , something to chip away the night , something to help you turn off the lights , to dream , revisit , reinvent , work your way through to write again* ...
Copyright September 28 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
randolph-l-wilson
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
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