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Taylar Wise Poem
I hear it,
Like the many lights flashing
just to keep me going.
Contrary to the damp twisted sheets
as my anchor to
the warm drip.
On my invisible brow
I have been spat
And I am not counting
Now,
Theres always an echo of an army
poised in the dark
between finishing and pointlessness
Sometimes gumming Orchid petals and clicking wooden heels
over and over.
For the first time today I remembered there was something outside
of me.
I heard a resonating moan.
Nothing like air nor flesh
but many strong puzzle pieces
spinnging and catching
to simply and suprisingly
keep going
forward.
Copyright © Taylar Wise | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Taylar Wise Poem
My short name, my lucid green day
My South Dakota doll accent, my life-jacket
My worn through the knee blue jeans
A red ant
struggles
between the last two toes.
Copyright © Taylar Wise | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Taylar Wise Poem
Clipped close
(mine)
Speculation lingers on
Cautious shoulders,
Hooped ankles.
The clean sky
The dirty earth
And all the
bird scraps
in between.
Copyright © Taylar Wise | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Taylar Wise Poem
We used to sit here,
right in this very spot
so that he was facing the window.
We discussed night
without even a thought of darkness
We imagined Bonnie, our ship
my wardrobe, a pet.
Sometimes we would spread ourselves weak
in comfort
and onto fabrics,
and sometimes I was that deep
black-purple tree
larger than the stone buildings.
How long will this be here
in this spot? I wondered.
Now it hurts to lay like this
not needing toes and not yet tired.
Copyright © Taylar Wise | Year Posted 2006
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