Fit to Print: englyn unodle crwca

What’s fit to print is not news. Our bitter, contrary views are merely stuff we seek to use as new fuel; like fools, we think we choose to fight false with what is true, wielding light that will burn through the lies and mad bugaboo everywhere. Now there’s a hopeful coup. Hopeful, but not meant […]

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Only Dream: alcaics

I cannot seek for infinite solutions, spend endless hours harboring discussion, just lurking in some thoughtful quagmire, patiently awaiting final judgment. How vain to think such artifice delivers a useful purpose, meaningful salvation, the precious jewel for reason’s scepter dispensing revelation to the worthy. What truth is there in this pointless anointing, in crowning jesters, […]

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When It Comes

When it comes, the night don’t know no difference: right and wrong and that thin line in between. In the dark, you just watch for the lightning. All the rest? Doesn’t matter what you mean. Simple truths in the shadows become complicated: black and white both appear as shades of gray. Choosing sides beyond sight […]

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All Possible: a poem of lies

The sky above is never blue, the earth is flat as pie, youth is eternal in the world and villains never cry. True riches can be hoarded, real pain fades by and by, belief is always justified and nothing good will die. The truth in this is plain to see: so long as I am […]

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Not Right: a cinquain

A bit of sound advice: if you believe a thing to be the truth, don’t keep it out of sight. For truth can’t stand the dark. It pines if locked up tight, and sometimes will grow sick and die, or fade away; and then, you’ve got mere memory and dust. How sad! That your foundation […]

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Out of Plumb: a caudate sonnet

When will these foolish notions dissipate and take their place with dreams, safe in the grave? How long must I be some grand idea’s slave, locked in an endless struggle with my fate? How much of life will pass me by, too late, while I watch on the shore for bigger waves, and in the […]

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Crime and Punishment

I would admit a lesser crime if only it were worth my while; but in these days when wish makes fact the simple notoriety of having lived will sentence me. There is no justice in the world when thought alone is quite enough to stripe a convict without bars, at least the steel variety, and […]

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