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#fuels
count your lucky stars before they’re plucked from the skies like ships capsizing in the night like astray cat’s eyes as we careen from green hills with purpose and pride driving through the night diving into rising tides count your lucky scars if you live long enough to heal them
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Nov 7, 2020
Nov 7, 2020 at 8:59 PM UTC
your lucky scars
You must read my novel. I don't make any money from the hard-copy sales. It's the lowest possible price that I fixed for it. I did so because I want people to read it and take home the goodness hidden in its story. https://www.amazon.com/dp/1520680961
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Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 11:45 AM UTC
Now
Earlier today, I laid outside atop the snow, A feat that I haven't tried Since life's true colors showed. The frost numbed my body, I'm sure red flushed into my cheeks; I stared speculatively at the sky, My eyes searched and seeked. I wanted to understand the beauty, That nature offers so readily, the solace, That it blankets us in even on cold days; I wanted to understand beauty that is flawless. My tired eyes embraced small, soaring figures That coursed through the air with grace; Content to go their own paths, Not engaged in a petty race. The figures were falcons, That spiraled and sailed on wind above me, Probably heading south, For warmth to set them free. But in that moment I compared them To man-produced ashes; Gray soot that courses through the air Dashes, in varying directions, As fire burns. In that moment, the birds drifted through the air So aimlessly, like the ashes do, Landing faraway, Wherever they flew. Nature itself could be ashes, If people continue on this path; This destruction ought to incur Some sort-of wrath.
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Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
The Birds That Were Ashes
*I guess you have a new companion And I guess I'm no longer the one who fuels you. I guess you've changed roads But I guess I'm still searching for your tracks. I guess you turned off the front lights But I guess I'd still be expecting it in the dark. I guess you're moving on But I guess I'll always be waiting for you at the stop.*
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
Van
The oil is gone, gone is the oil, There is no oil for us to boil, To power our cars, To package our bars, We need oil, oil, precious oil, How we miss our material plastic, We made everything out of it, it was fantastic! Car batteries and glue, Computers, shampoo, All made out of precious oil, Alas, it’s shuffled off its mortal coil, Goodbye, goodbye to our fair oil, Without our plastic, Things are quite drastic, All our cars are beyond repair, There’s no more shampoo for our hair, And on what do you think we do a poo, Plastic toilet seats you cry, it tell you, that’s not true! You don’t even know how I’m typing this, Computers are gone now – don’t dis! Life really ***** without oil, In 2011, it must have been royal, A word of wisdom to those with oil about, Look after it dearly, don’t let it run out!
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 5:52 AM UTC
Life with Oil - 2051
A lone wolf searches for Innocent victims just to replenish One's inner world that one lived it For a long,long time ... Hatred never builds glories Simply because it means only that Huge collapse of one's morality anytime and It fuels others' anger for those bad things That come out of that ugly hatred anytime ....
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
Hatred fuels anger