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#fences
The fences are on fire Can’t you feel it? The bonfire in your nostrils Time standing by your side, Whispering “quickly, love” and, In the distance, lips part and quake They—you—(what difference will it make?) Tremble like a lake of sulfur, A lake of liquified lavender But darker—wine, yes, wine in its cellar Can’t you feel it? The ashes pasting themselves over the moon The midnight sun, the falling stars at noon Time grabs your hand this time, “No more waiting, my love” or maybe It was “No more hating, my love” You clench your free hand You bite your lip You drench you drench you drench Your body in acid in courage in rage Can’t you feel it? The fences are on fire And love’s coming for you
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Nov 1, 2024
Nov 1, 2024 at 5:00 PM UTC
The fences are on fire
Puppyhead leapt, up from bed, to the door she raced. special high pitched bark reserved for the fox. learned did I, the hard way, not to open the door. not to let puppyhead go racing out, full speed ahead, out into the night. wild and free, and right straight after yet another wild life. so we watch, from behind closed door, peering out into the dark of the night. shadow moving around, surveilling the ground, a white tipped tail barely visible as past it moves. mean feel I, for not opening that door. puppyhead barks, ooks up at my head, then out to that yard. "Why can't I be out there now, alone with that fox?" learned I, the hard way, puppyhead won't back down. neither will the wild nocturnal creatures, who visit our den, during the very dark, the dark, of the middle of the night. so I creep silently up the stairs, every so quietly, so puppyhead won't hear, won't want to follow, won't want to come, out here with me instead. open a door, do I, a door to a deck. alone stand I peering down into the dark, the dark of the night. hearing that fox moving about, creeping along fence line, finding a place, a place of escape. almost free, to continue to roam through this night, this dark, & beautiful night. she leaps in one graceful arc, up and over high gate. pads off she goes, into this night, roaming along this solitary creature, taking such free flight on this magical night.
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May 13, 2022
May 13, 2022 at 11:36 PM UTC
nocturnal visitor, on a dark night
I look at your fences and your flimsy nests. The wind comes in and breaks them. You rebuild, the bear comes in and breaks them. Yet you still rebuild.
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Dec 1, 2020
Dec 1, 2020 at 12:05 PM UTC
Fences.
in the predawn fog a faint outline of fences could be observed
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Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 7:56 AM UTC
Haiku
Not Elves, Exactly by Michael R. Burch (after Robert Frost's "Mending Wall") Something there is that likes a wall, that likes it spiked and likes it tall, that likes its pikes’ sharp rows of teeth and doesn’t mind its victims’ grief (wherever they come from, far or wide) as long as they fall on the other side. Keywords/Tags: Robert Frost, mending, wall, fences, good, neighbors, southern, border, spikes, pikes, barbed, wire, electrical
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Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 12:18 AM UTC
Not Elves, Exactly (after Robert Frost)
Shaking Taking in breaths Through the bottom of my feet Aching In all the places that I landed Mind overtaken By all the possibilities Of things that could've come
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Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 12:59 AM UTC
Heart Attack
The dreams roll through my mind as it hovers over the edge of rest. A constant feeling of feeling everything at once. I cry as the clouds cover my eyes and I fall into a land where I am revealed. Dripping down my cheeks comes the blood of reopened scars slashed wide in fear of existence. I walk through tunnels into green fields of hope and sun and reflection. Fences unbury themselves; capturing my thoughts again. As they ascend the small child grabs my hand and vomits on my face. I wake up.
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Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 9:20 AM UTC
The Subconscious
i have spent far too much of my life building towering walls with no arches, without windows without any view to the outside world. i would much rather have liked it if i would have built fences instead. fences are moveable. you can push the rows and rows of wire or wood a foot to the north or a foot to the south or make a curve in the line. fences don't block everything out, they don't keep everything in, and they don't hurt as much when they fall. walls, on the other hand, crash and burn and take months and months to rebuild. fences? fences can be put up in a day or two depending on how difficult you want it to be to get in/get out; fences can be taken down in a day or two depending on how easy you want it to be to get out/get in.
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Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 5:29 PM UTC
ii. walls and fences
He said I had the curliest hair the sweetest smile the warmest eyes and the kindest soul All was good and well until he said: No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t jump the fence around my heart.
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Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 12:50 PM UTC
Sticky Note Poetry 2: Alas
He is bald Plain to my eyes Sublime in local geniality The garden he claims Taimed in distress Of the coming winter I fear the tears Sudden regret For his' long forgotten trials Forced to steep so low Forward but below Entrenched in sweet tasting anguish His' body hard and unmotivated The Sculpture of obsession Must be completed with stubborn muscle I seem to torment him My love becoming A betrayal of our lust Battles commence Volcanic eruptions Shake the house of ruin He never seems to trust me My compassionate actions Bring forth pork chops The meal Is shared Beside each other Without Sight We fight against White picket fences
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 7:20 AM UTC
Pork chops beside a white picket fence
[You can hear the air moving the   l e a v e s  of the     p     a  l    m          t      r  e  e     s. Last rays of sun and it’s June 3]      We walk on a  white-washed street and Forget Me Not flowers on the fences screaming this is your new world. You are that world, your eyes are Portofino in the middle of a neighborhood of coins. We are walking and you stop because you look at a window of someone, while I was (I was) fixing the shouts of light on your temple, living the new world. [All my cracks filled with water] It’s warm pleasant, we walk, seeing life taking and not just wishing, -^^^-    we have excelled     in the plastic world. I stood by the ho^use with the most beautiful garden, I touched bird in paradise and you say that it’s [our garden]
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Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 11:24 AM UTC
Bright specks of light
The barbed wire in my chest Pokes and prods with each halting breath Nothing is easy anymore With it sitting there Unwinding slowly It rakes its claws against my insides Around my bones Into my lungs Any sudden movement Any risk Any chance Digs it only deeper There is no room for error in this body of mine I am a walking keep out fence
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Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 6:25 PM UTC
[keep out]
you tried to drown your fears in sunshine but the red thread in the corner of your oversized sweater caught on the moon's crescent instead and the rose petals that you were keeping up your sleeves fell out and onto the garden of peonies your best friend was growing on her front lawn, its not nice to constantly be running from forest green comfort but the only other option is staying where the gold is and thats something you never learned to do, yet maps have followed you recklessly on the roads that you've ripped through and eventually you'll find yourself climbing taller fences to be back where the purple of the last February evening wrapped your impulsive body tight, though you'll never be found how you were last left
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Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 1:03 AM UTC
sometimes its safer to land in the water
Dying animals trapped in barbed wire Man-made men all flailing to conspire To cross the sea of destiny for hope to design their own form of misanthrope Building fences of ignorance and tears for the respect of their own group of peers Creating borders to destroy their own wealth to hasten the decline of their own health Living animals limitless and free with untold abundance and scarcity Roaming the planet to frolic and breed to the farthest reaches spreading their seed Happy with total harmony and peace with no concept of coverings or fleece Communicating only by their senses unless of course they start building fences
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Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 12:50 AM UTC
Building fences
Your borders are mending fences And false fiction is the elevated runoff of the headwaters of your dreams And the people black framed in the cages of the eternal moment's collapse Will gather generating candle light wisdom of those who deny existence
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Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
Borders and Fences
And we all shine on.             The thorn of love that is invisible to strangers.             Here comes the husband’s attitude again. Pass with Care.             Here comes the husband’s paycheck again. Pass with Care. And here we have the husband’s mistress again. And she passed with care. Now, we have this baby girl. One more piece for the puzzle-family: “And you know I ain’t never want no half nothing in my family. My whole family is half. Everybody got different fathers and mothers.” Sacrifice, Mama. Ain’t that what it’s all about? Rose. Rose. The one who is already risen.             When you banished him from your bed, did he contort his frame and slug his way toward the door, continued down the hallway and down the stairs to leech away the ghost of that emotion that Tallahassee-big-hipped-girl gave him? Give your daughter, now, the hungry fatigue that you had to acquire. Pass with care. And now you stand with this goblet in your arms. Goblet of light. Golden flower in your heart and in your brain. This baby girl --             Breather of the goodness in the world.
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Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 2:38 AM UTC
When Rose was gonna' call it 'quits,' but that motha' had the nerve to walk 'round here again.
We build our own cages. We construct fences around our souls. We scribble on the walls. We believe this makes us free. The world can terrify. But there is nothing worse than not experiencing life for the fear of hurting.
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
We Build Our Own Cages
You see right through me Yet you refuse to see me You look right at me But you do not understand me You go around me, you go through me But you do not examine me I am just in your way I am just a barrier You do not see what I am because you insist on seeing what I am not You avoid me at all costs because its an inconvenience to you I am in your own head your own heart even Yet you refuse to accept me you go further further than wood and nails you reach for the brick and mortar you build me stronger without even acknowledging me you dance around the surface of my being you cover me up you break me down throw me out But you rebuild me again different materials same understanding same meaning same hidden emotions and thoughts this time you cannot see through me but you still do not see me
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 4:36 AM UTC
Fences
the promise that her tenderness has no fences made her linger on my mind like a rough bottle of fine wine and as the evening rolled back daylights clutter of thoughts in my head that smile she flashed me came back to kiss my heart it came with such delight sparking in her sweet eyes that i just felt myself drowning in the moment with such wanton joys made me illustrious by her soft-spoken side made me happy to be alive... once the sullen girl in baggy sweat pants and pink slippers dragging a bag full of noisesome beatnik romances she has grown to love freedoms road cast aside such tin-plated gods and rough-house boys that a pretty boy isn't a man if he wont make a stand found herself holding a wishing well coin and a map showing paradises shores and came down to find me again.... sitting in a coffee house full of lost voices full of magazine honeys chilling before the big break finds em listening to the sounds of heartbreak in glasses chatter and waiting for a road that made sense to me when she walked back into my life like a rough bottle of fine wine like a candlelight evening with true loves joys i will be here forever know that now florida moon-surfing holding her in my arms breathing the magic that is her exploring her romances
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
her tenderness has no fences
Building new fences Panels become barriers Guarding raw senses
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
Fences
I’m minded today we have a choice to make our mark and raise our voice but there are those, it’s very funny who’d tell you how they’d spend your money. All over Europe pundits gather getting themselves in quite a lather giving opinions on issues political trying to make them sound so critical. Skeletons found in many a cupboard the found out grimace, some have blubbered and later when all votes are counted disappointment follows campaigns mounted. In Germany too they’ll do their thing as seats stay put or make a swing France and Italy, Ireland too votes for Europe are quite a to-do. Votes are counted on Sunday of course and Dimbleby brothers roll out in force the great Swingometer comes into play as seats are won across the UK. After all the dust has settled new MEPs all keen and mettled all take their seats with po-faced pride personal pleasure they try to hide. And so to business for some it’s new there are many and various things to do like getting claims in for their expenses the sitting places – the search for fences. Alliances to make are the next big thing who’ll vote with you on anything but represent those who for you voted or you’ll be out next time, I hope that’s noted. ©Joe Wilson – The European Elections 2014
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
The European Elections