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Post by Deleted on Nov 11, 2017 11:40:52 GMT -5
Awake with headache Too deep in the cups last night Moan and roll from bed Coffee doe not help enough Time for a bathe with much steam
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Post by Deleted on Nov 12, 2017 11:56:28 GMT -5
More mellow last night Much easier this morning To cold to be out Staying home can bring danger Just as easily perhaps.
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Post by momoyama on Nov 12, 2017 19:09:02 GMT -5
Persimmons hang low lonely on the cold branches who will come and pick? hopefully it’s not the bears monkeys did not come this year
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Saionji Shonagon
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One dreamed of becoming somebody. Another remained awake and became. (Found in a fortune cookie.)
Posts: 7,240
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Post by Saionji Shonagon on Nov 13, 2017 1:27:21 GMT -5
A sudden stinging Reveals an angry red scrape Upon my left arm. That sword thrust landed over Five hours before I noticed.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2017 6:49:46 GMT -5
Fabric scrunched and bound Into the dye bath it goes Stirring and waiting Rinsing, washing, and ironing How nicer fabric is made
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Saionji Shonagon
New Member
One dreamed of becoming somebody. Another remained awake and became. (Found in a fortune cookie.)
Posts: 7,240
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Post by Saionji Shonagon on Nov 14, 2017 1:11:32 GMT -5
My head throbs with it, The heaviness of the air Before the rains come. I wait for relief in vain, Too restless to think of sleep.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 14, 2017 7:05:28 GMT -5
It's like a new job But really it's the same place Just a different group Very different group in fact And my new place within it
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Post by momoyama on Nov 14, 2017 7:25:58 GMT -5
Gentrification holds these villages in grip we are not immune ageing’s forward march hastens my moustache’s turn to gray
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Saionji Shonagon
New Member
One dreamed of becoming somebody. Another remained awake and became. (Found in a fortune cookie.)
Posts: 7,240
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Post by Saionji Shonagon on Nov 14, 2017 10:37:09 GMT -5
It's a slippery thing, Memory, a dream of things That may have happened. We encrust with meaning these Impermanent tears in rain.
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Post by Kagami Tomoko on Nov 14, 2017 21:36:07 GMT -5
I think it's going to be one of those seasons where I group my poems.
11.08 [Didn't post on this night]
11.09 Green tea in my cup Still, warm and waiting for me, To make the next move. But all I can do is stare Alice, is this how you felt?
11.10 Deciduous trees, “Holding back” the howling wind, Sadly, with each gust, A pale yellow tragedy, Falling towards the forest floor.
11.11 The Beat is banging My sweet lady is singing Lights! Camera! Action! Dance party has just begun, Turn off my phone. Fall Asleep.
11.12 And so we arise Every morning from the East Like the Winter Sun. Quietly, we travel West, To witness a Champion!
11.13 Sleep is all I crave May it take the whole of me Quickly with no fuss. And so I wait "patiently" Eyes wide at a blank ceiling.
11.14 Finally at home To rest and to recover Just as soon as I ~ Finish these eighty e-mails, Three meetings, and these time sheets.
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Post by momoyama on Nov 15, 2017 9:06:04 GMT -5
Down in the valley the rain disappears quickly here in the highlands it lingers on forever price to pay for no A/C
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Saionji Shonagon
New Member
One dreamed of becoming somebody. Another remained awake and became. (Found in a fortune cookie.)
Posts: 7,240
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Post by Saionji Shonagon on Nov 16, 2017 1:38:19 GMT -5
A tap on the wall, Then another, is how The night's rain begins. From a patter on shingles It grows to a wild gallop.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2017 9:21:14 GMT -5
As I predicted, it's difficult to start strong and maintain cadence of poems for a full month. Easy to lose track of days.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2017 9:45:00 GMT -5
Sewing at our house. People due any minute. Cleaned up yesterday. I guess it's time to figure out what I'm going to make.
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Post by Kagami Tomoko on Nov 19, 2017 2:30:47 GMT -5
11.15 [missed this one] 11.16 [missed this one too]
11.17 The words come slowly... On unsteady legs they rise, Resisting stage fright. Under a single spotlight, Each verse shall bud and blossom.
11.18 Your wonderful words, Carried by an Autumn song. Round, and crystal-clear. Such is your Siren's call that, Even the trees are blushing.
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