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  Jul 2018 Duncan Brown
Marshal Gebbie
Tho we be like strands of nettle, each with his own drop of particular poison, tho over the years we have tangled now and then like tomcats in the alley....

Be it not the beauty and allure of this gathering of writers to appreciate and admire the difference found within?

T'were it not for the likes of Francis this site would lack bite, would lack spice and would lose much of its' erstwhile attraction.

So wherefore art thou Frank?
I miss your stuff. I miss your sharp tongue...
I miss your intellect and repartee!

Wherefore art thou Francis?
M.
Many, many moons ago we lost another who just vanished like Frank.
He had a similar style to Frank, just as searching, slightly less acidic but like Frank his contributions were very edifying and widely appreciated.
I speak of "JP".
Long gone, much missed and richly remembered.
M.
  Jul 2018 Duncan Brown
Elizabeth
Soon I realized that nothing comes easy with love. Sometimes we aren’t always meant to be no matter how hard we try and other times we didn’t try hard enough. Sometimes we fall into love and then we fall out of it the same way we came in, crashing hard, burning, hurting, pain. I wish I could believe that love was an easy thing, I wish I could believe we’d meet again at a coffee shop in thirty years with lives of our own and realize we should have been together all along. I guess I’m wishing for a false reality that you only see on the big screen, you only read in fairytale stories. For those afraid of love I understand why, I understand that the one who told you she loved you the most and promised to never leave was the one who left you bare and cold and freezing on that December night. She left you on your doorstep, the same place you met, the same place she told you she wanted to stay. She wanted to stay but she’s up and left and all that’s left of her is her scent and those memories. Love is gone. Love is lost. You are lost.
Fairytale stories are an escape from reality
  Jul 2018 Duncan Brown
Twalib Mushi
You are a beautiful song
Beauty enough to turn me on
Forever you make me strong
With your flawless melodic tone.

You are my favorite song
I keep in my heart and singing
To this hard life as stone
We better live before we're gone.

You are my cradlesong
Soothing me as I lie down.

You are that metallic song
With fine drawing body of verses
I dare to keep you long
With those tenacious, beguiling chorus.

You are my song
I constantly reiterating
Only glancing at you
I don't need playlist on you.
  Jul 2018 Duncan Brown
abecedarian
~explaining light to the blind~


~for Suzy~

the insanity of even attempting

who among us, the sighted,
has the capability to clarify
an animate inanimate,
an untouchable invisible,
that can be folded, bent,
travel universes unseen
at its own chosen speed,
even to another sighted

and to the blind...

imagine then light
as something that
be recognized from the inside only with
in- sight

~think of the continuum from
warmth to steel furnaced heat,
that is an element of what is light,
the sun cheek kissing, the furnace of chests
when you grasp another’s body first time

think of light as water,
the faucet spigot a measured pouring,
that can overshoot, the stream behind the house,
a toe tickling masseuse caress,
a dam’s waterfall endless crashing,
a sea, wave licking sudden raging dangerous

blend these sensations that belong to all,
and you’ll know light better than most,
indeed, light is for those who cannot vision
except from the inside with a sight that can be
touched, felt, imagined, and which the sightless
command better than us ordinary thoughtless

indeed light is as simple to understand as
  abc,
which you have never seen, but creates the words
that we all
use
even share
~
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