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my best poems came: in months, days of desperation, hours, moments of elation, it was the always imbalance that just was, that was/when the karma-was in-balance my best poems always, always, came accompanied by tears, many, before, during, certainly after, even twice, when a later returning stumble, brought the sentries to open old gates never, at any time, was a man with many friends, reasons plenty, reasons mine, it was an imbalance that just was, that of the karma-when-in-balance, except, the creative offsprings became children, painful to raise, coming to visit occasionally hear no quiet trumpet moaning, nor a violin shed the human cries that only a man-made instrument can be forgiven for being better at than their own creators.  Much by choice, or criminal laziness, all tinged by a fear so subtle, don’t think anyone knew it existed, yet, always humming “see the man running against the wind” there you have it. no summing up necessitated, because how the numbers add up, the total is just the total, and know, you can finish this one, the total is just a rose by any other name, it’s a number that by definition was the of, the when, “when an imbalanced karma-was-in-balance.”
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Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 3:40 PM UTC
my best poems came (when an imbalanced karma-was-in-balance)
my best poems came: in months, days of desperation, hours, moments of elation, it was the always imbalance that just was, that was/when the karma-was in-balance my best poems always, always, came accompanied by tears, many, before, during, certainly after, even twice, when a later returning stumble, brought the sentries to open old gates never, at any time, was a man with many friends, reasons plenty, reasons mine, it was an imbalance that just was, that of the karma-when-in-balance, except, the creative offsprings became children, painful to raise, coming to visit occasionally hear no quiet trumpet moaning, nor a violin shed the human cries that only a man-made instrument can be forgiven for being better at than their own creators.  Much by choice, or criminal laziness, all tinged by a fear so subtle, don’t think anyone knew it existed, yet, always humming “see the man running against the wind” there you have it. no summing up necessitated, because how the numbers add up, the total is just the total, and know, you can finish this one, the total is just a rose by any other name, it’s a number that by definition was the of, the when, “when an imbalanced karma-was-in-balance.”
nat-lipstadt
Written by
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 3:40 PM UTC
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