
Photo by Jeff Edwards
empty of all but my name
as it should be my dust has
no home rides the wind
that may someday blow
back through this tired
templar ornament letting
some grains of me settle
remembered by stonework
forgotten by flesh
for the language of deeds
won’t be spoken by tongues
that would rather taste time
From my books Inside the Smoke and Legacies (vol. 2)
Tongues that would rather taste time.’ I don’t know how you can conjure up words thus – just keep doing so!
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I will certainly try
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Marvelous verse 🙂
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much appreciated
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Reblogged this on OUR POETRY CORNER.
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thanks for sharing my poem with your readers
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Beautiful!
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thank you kindly
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As the MARKSMAN of the ‘present’* that you are I find THIS thought to be a QUINTESSENTIAL marking of how how the who that brought this universe “IN-TO” just “may” have ordered this observation.
There’s a W.P. author: vicklinde that has an offer for such as this.
Thank YOU for these…
“D”
*As a Polematician you KNOW that to “round UP” any good thought that the practitioner uses as many “sides” of the “presented” word to render the “GIFT” in a “timely” manner.
Wouldn’t that be “poetry”?
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I appreciate your thoughtful comment
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those that DO… do.
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Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
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Hi Paul. Lovely meaningful words. Thank you for liking my poem Was It An Angel? Best Wishes. The Foureyed Poet.
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much appreciated, malc
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