if only i could tell you
(but i can't)
how the blue check shirt
and the silver-rimmed glasses
haunt me even today
if only i could tell you
how i knew that moment
my search had ended
but i can't
if only you believed me
if only,
but you can't . . .
Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!
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Blog Archive
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2006
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January
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- Waters edge (interlude to Toffee Love)
- Things You Left Behind
- Celluloid heroes never feel any pain
- 1932.
- blugtot
- If only
- If the night has to fall
- The Persistence of Longing
- Toffee Love
- "A Patience Unit" [55 words]
- YOUNG BOY AT THE COFFEE SHOPis down on his knees h...
- Sewerman
- "Landscape with desire" [ghazal]
- freedom sessions
- Through the missing window...
- Martyr
- High Plain Drifter
- Carved & shaped [a responsive sonnet]
- Further to Jyotsna's sonnet...
- A Sonnet-Untitled
- The Fan
- No title
- ON WATCHING SLEEPLESS IN SEATLEOr was it Romeo and...
- Under the "influence" perhaps, Sir?
- Baad Hair Daay
- Mice and Men
- god is dead (and how we know)
- The Writing Specialist
- Syndrome
- Stars
- pomegranite</To the SeedmanBilly I think you're br...
- To the Seedman
- Flowers
- Prone to atrocity
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January
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3 comments:
this resonates strangely with my earlier TOFFEE LOVE piece. the memory of someone can some times be stronger than the reality of the situation can't it?
another excellent post.
(we very nearly crashed into each other with our posts didn't we?)
yeah, but what were you doing up so late into the night?
night? not here in the UK honey. bright and early AM!!
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