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Try though we might,
we cannot teach the caged bird to sing,
the silver bells
the cuttle stone
dainty mirror
seed treat
a satin tether, for hand feeding.

Try though we might,
we cannot teach the caged bird to sing,
the impetus of Bach,
Brahms,
carefully administered liberties,
these are not enough
to bring melody
to the hushed throat.

And so we find
the gilt...
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VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
kenyon:
smile sorry i don't have too many answers tonight. just a list of questions to add to yours, at best. 'night.
lassie:
Punctual.
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"History is made at night. Character is what you are in the dark."

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension.
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There's no way to know what she's doing when she's not around.
Assume she is doing as she likes. Hope she is having a good time.
If she likes you she'll come back.
Question is: "can you handle it?".
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I'd to hate think my life could become one of those dramas that could not end:
cinematic hauntings,.
Where we do violence,
violence remains;
interminably tangible shades of old passions.
A house with bad memories.
zak:
you should post in the 'urban poetry' group. it's a good group.
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"...breasts so large that other smaller breasts will want to orbit them." biggrin

Weeds
kenyon:
heh. i love weeds.
kenyon:
"little man in a big hat all over again" - funny. i suppose, in the end, it's all about "casting a glamour" over oneself to appear however you see yourself, however you wish to appear. and maybe others' perception of you will meet you halfway. or maybe you (and i . . . ) will just stop caring. i'd take either option. smile
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I am the little engine they couldn't. shocked
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We could get married.
Or we could just have a wedding, wedding cake, wedding dress, wedding photographer.
Wedding photographer,
a little lighting,
a staircase
a fountain.
A wedding photographer could retouch everything,
and hook us up with a slice of life like video montage
grayscale with color transitions
for keepsake
smoothe out the roughspots
Just photos from our good sides,
the ones where there's glitter...
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Some folks are magnets for trouble. If there is stink in a pot they will be there to smell it.
That's dramatic.
But, there is so much going on so much of the time, so much action, interaction ...
Sally forth and so on, and so on, that no wonder from time to time a guys going to come home with just a little stink...
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kenyon:
oooo, hurts so good. the part about "it would never be at home . . . " cuts to the quick for me. in a good way. thanks so much for sharing that with me. (wish i could hear the music, but i'm contented for now!).

it's all about imperfection, isn't it? in a good way.

xx. "kenyon"
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I got it! wink
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Sometimes I feel an utter failure at communication. I don't get this feeling in the real world, just when I voice an opinion on SG. And I have no way of judging how my attempts at interaction fail since I don't get responses. Just new threads. Really, plants are better for interaction than this, if I over or under water one it will drop leaves...
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VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
c6h12o6:
I agree. having a voice here is a monumental task not worth the tremendous energy it requires. luckily there are a small group of us that do listen and do appreciate the unheard voices. and thank you for your comment. if you ever wanna chat- same deal. im here, at least til september lol. now i just gotta wait for those damn pieces to fall in place.
fred:

I've found the best way to get new comments is to comment on other people's journals.

Don't sweat it. It's like a big experiment.