Category Archives: edenbray COMMENT

SERGEI .. .

SERGEI .. . Remember well full histories   homeland, where we learned   and lived as children born   to cultures sworn both Russian   as the czar, severe the priests   incense-driven, strict religion I learned to play piano … Continue reading →

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THE TRAINS GO THUNDERING BY .. . .. .

The Trains Go Thundering By .. . The trains go thundering by more a figure of speech I sit at the corner of a dusty road forlorn much of hope The tanks came after then the larks sprung forth and … Continue reading →

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HONESTLY .. .

honestly .. . .. I wandered by my hometown station no trains run anymore they dug up the track there is an antique dealer there he opens up on three days a week to sell old things not chicken wings … Continue reading →

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HOWL TWiCE .. .

Howl Twice .. . We met this side of dawn neat satchels on our backs to search and find Zanadu people knew as East Ewell in what was known then as ‘the stockbroker belt’ of the sprawl that was Lond-on … Continue reading →

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INSINCERE INTENTIONS .. .

Insincere Intentions ..  I wrestle with my anxiety who calls her Joanie everyday there is someone new something new knocking at my door demanding my attention who tries to bring me to the floor the cold, hard floor we who … Continue reading →

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THIS DREAM WAS THE FIRST .. .

This dream was the first .. . . This dream was the first   it woke me alarmed and covered in damp persuasion   of believing myself  a gangster on the run   born to play Machieveli I, who held … Continue reading →

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ALL I SEE IS HATRED .. .

All I see is hatred .. . . .. (echoes of Masters of War) … I look at your stony face and all I see is your hatred the hatred you have unleashed upon this sad, worried world not curbed … Continue reading →

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THERE ARE FAR TOO MANY RULES .. .

There are far too many rules .. . .;/ +=+ We want you to be free   to begin writing poetry take walks in the park   in this brave new world which gets smaller every day   yet that … Continue reading →

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ON ROAD THE 600 .. .

ON THE ROAD – HIGHWAY 600 .. . . .. and I am a painter shocking with a stanley brush or a stanley knife the truth is out and squirming two daisy flowers lie bruised on the concrete floor that … Continue reading →

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kyrie eleison .. .

kyrie eleison .. . I stepped by the mythical tree whose branches dressed in copper whose arms reach out ever upward trained on the ghost of Jacob Marley her boughs and sprays convolvulate lavish, adorned, purpled of paradoxicality awkward, leaning … Continue reading →

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