Words

Watermark

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When I leftYou remainedA watermark Those who know meWho see right through meSee you in me Paul Rogers is a writer, stepdad and punk rock bassist...

Get it Together

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Just there after, the lights dim down to a nearly indiscriminate fade.The hush falls on the crowd like a falling line of dominos.It’s the...

hewn and hallowed

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full moon poetryjagged and rawbleeding from the woundsof an ancestral saw back and forth as it goesthrough the passage of timewith these hands, grandfatherthat cannot...

Face The Dirt

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I’m observing the frighteningdangerously changing era of anothertrembling foundation,the rapidly turning event unravel... it seems the...

Thanksgiving

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Thanks for stoplights, to notice pink waves of dawn, reflected from sandstone foothills, that drift across my windshield Thanks for hold buttons, for forced moments to focus...

open book (start on page one, or anywhere?)

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some days — if by days you mean libraries (i’m my own library) —i file myself under fiction;some days, anthologies  during regular library business hoursi read myselfas a...

This Winter Day

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What are WE to one another? If not reminders of our     Continuous connection to Earth     And to the Love inherent in Her Creation. Where...

Out of time

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He most definitely knew what hit him. His family and friends would seek solace in the standard untruth that “at least he didn’t feel...

Waiting for Spring

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Crows and snow a tethered world monochromatic static, white noise of sight like floaters, skittery images through flakes the size of quarters, and feathered balls of birds sitting it out on sugared...

Stories from the Marsh Land

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Woven stories from the marsh land.A baptism of fire erupts in your eyes.A first day built of sweat and smoke and bomb craters.Where did...

I Wish To Know You

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I wish to know you in blinding light, I wish to know you in radiant stars. Your kiss like the sea’s jetting mist,the wish that planted...

baker’s daughter

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before the sun is fully crested over the barns, I pull the yellowy creams from the chest and let them soften into mornings first familiar yawn. Peeling...