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This title, this challenge, Has rested uncomfortably in IPad memory, Storage unit for Poems Needing Composition, Unwritten, unanswered, needy for resolution. Today is a good day to answer. You are the pause between my breaths, A ledge to rest on, a stepping stone, Without you, there is no next one. You are audience faithful, Scribbles, wordplay, jokes horrible, Official Storer/Inspiration Sorcerer of my unending script. You are shy critic, unwavering, Deft, with feminine oversight, Knowledgable proven, when silence, best. You overfill my AM coffee cup, The mug that advises sagely, Be calm in you heart. You overfill my PM  cup nightly, Knowing that even tho, can't sing or dance, I need to, can do, can't do w/o you. So lest, mistaken grievous, You think, highly erroneous, This poem is NOT about me babe, This poem is entitled, You, How Much, Owed, You. Lest the answer be poetically muddled, On this day, perfect weather, perfect clarity, Unashamedly Everything. Sept. 15th 2012 In bed, 8:22 am NYC --------------- Addendum June 29th 2012 This old soul loves you more. He cannot believe his good fortune, This June, this one more perfect afternoon, my heart importunes, Love my poetry like I love thee, and we will have the most Perfect Union
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Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
How Much Do I Owe You?
This title, this challenge, Has rested uncomfortably in IPad memory, Storage unit for Poems Needing Composition, Unwritten, unanswered, needy for resolution. Today is a good day to answer. You are the pause between my breaths, A ledge to rest on, a stepping stone, Without you, there is no next one. You are audience faithful, Scribbles, wordplay, jokes horrible, Official Storer/Inspiration Sorcerer of my unending script. You are shy critic, unwavering, Deft, with feminine oversight, Knowledgable proven, when silence, best. You overfill my AM coffee cup, The mug that advises sagely, Be calm in you heart. You overfill my PM  cup nightly, Knowing that even tho, can't sing or dance, I need to, can do, can't do w/o you. So lest, mistaken grievous, You think, highly erroneous, This poem is NOT about me babe, This poem is entitled, You, How Much, Owed, You. Lest the answer be poetically muddled, On this day, perfect weather, perfect clarity, Unashamedly Everything. Sept. 15th 2012 In bed, 8:22 am NYC --------------- Addendum June 29th 2012 This old soul loves you more. He cannot believe his good fortune, This June, this one more perfect afternoon, my heart importunes, Love my poetry like I love thee, and we will have the most Perfect Union
nat-lipstadt
Written by
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
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