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- The ears have it: a curtal sonnetFrom eyesight, there are half a dozen words that represent a myriad of lies. The surface, then, is never proof enough; relying on appearance is …
- ShikantazaWho is just sitting? It is not me, or is it, here on the cushion. Who is asking the question? Nobody really knows that. 13 …
- Only Dream: alcaicsI cannot seek for infinite solutions, spend endless hours harboring discussion, just lurking in some thoughtful quagmire, patiently awaiting final judgment. How vain to think …
- The ears have it: a curtal sonnet
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Tag Archives: morning
Early Morning
There is something liberating about waking up early. Not too early, mind you. But earlier than you need to be awake; and if you’re lucky, early enough to see the last of the night disappear in the whitewash of the … Continue reading
At Dawn When I Awoke
At dawn, when I awoke, the rain was but a mist that damped the lawn; and then its whitewash strength increased to rinse the night, ’til it was gone. Its purpose served, it too then waned, as greys began to … Continue reading
Morning Resolve
This morning I shall try to set my sights against the hypocrite that dwells inside me, giving pause to any who would praise my cause. I seek him out, this two-faced toad whose inner turmoil oft explodes in fits of … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged hypocrisy, illusions, morning, resolutions, self-loathing, substance
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Two Murders
Two murders I witnessed in opposite trees across the canal, voicing cacophony; a trial of wills between territories resulting in blackened skies, as the light breeze of morning and rain brought a chill to my knees. Not often such numbers … Continue reading
And Still Another: a alba or aubade
Before the first ray of morning sun comes over the muttering lips of the sleeping world (like the last soft warm breath of a restful sleep is released from the tight grasp of that little death) and there are not … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged alba, aubade, isolation, morning, peace, poetic forms, silence
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Awake at Dawn
I find myself in recent days at dawn, a time of morning I’ve not seen for years, and in that space where darkness soon is gone a soft, yet vibrant energy appears. I used to be enchanted by the night, … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged daily poems, enchantment, insomnia, morning, solitude, sonnet
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Morning on the Levee
Along the edge of the levee, atop the slow hill slanting up against the bank of the canal there is a worn down path of grass that leads from just nearby my house to where the water meets the lake. … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged autumn, daily poems, Gentilly, London Avenue canal, morning, New Orleans, seasons, walking
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