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I love you, baby, like a train loves a track.
You take me where I'm going, then you bring me back.

I love you, baby, like a flower loves a bee.
I know you can sting but you seldom sting me.

I love you, baby, like an actor loves a role.
You tell me what to do and I still feel control.

I love you, baby, like the winter loves the spring.
Until you melt the ice, I don't feel a thing.

I love you, baby, like a window loves a view.
I like the way you want me to want to look at you.

I love you, baby, like the blues love a song.
Got to sing soft or loud in a world that's gone wrong.

I love you, baby, like a story loves a book.
If there is a last page, I don't want to look.

I love you, baby, like a needle loves thread.
We did some fine sewing on the day we were wed.

I love you, baby, like a sand grain loves a pearl.
I love you, baby, like a boy loves a girl.
To Beverly with love on our 38th wedding anniversary, December 28, 2012.
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You intrigue me
Our likeness burns in my heart
So close, I could almost touch your lips
But I turn away
I mustn't let this little secret ruin me
I think I might belong to you
But Ill never love again

I've become devoid of happiness
I've forgotten what it's like to taste sweet love's embrace
I yearn to be remembered on a cold December's eve
To have you call, knowing it was just to hear my voice
And then hear a simple "I love you" followed by a pause, my ditto, and a click

It's no matter
I'm done with all of that
All that's left is you
*sigh*
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I believe I am having
a bad luck streak.
Yes, I believe I am having
a bad luck streak.
I went off a cliff on Monday
and I've been falling all week.

On Tuesday I was singing
a song that I wrote.
Tuesday I was singing
a song that I wrote.
But it went up too high -
I could not hit that note.

On Wednesday my lawyer
called me up on the phone.
Wednesday my lawyer
called me on the phone.
He said my case was hopeless
and he was going home.

On Thursday I thought
that things would be fine.
Thursday I was thinking
that things would be fine.
Then a six I had my eye on
turned out to be a nine.

On Friday I heard a trumpet
blow like Judgment Day.
Friday came a trumpet
with a sound like Judgment Day.
And I said, "Please Mr. Gabriel,
put your horn away."

On Saturday I was tired
but I could not sleep.
Saturday I was tired
but I could not sleep.
I tried to read Martin Heidegger
but he was too deep.

On Sunday I was praying,
I was down on my knees.
Sunday I was praying,
I got down on my knees.
I had one thing to say -
"Save me if you please."

I believe I am having
a bad luck streak.
Yes, I believe I am having
a bad luck streak.
I've been falling since last Monday,
I went off a cliff last week.
Thanks to Jimi Hendrix for the six that turns out to be nine, and to Robert Johnson ("Crossroads Blues") for most of the "on my knees" stanza.
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My baby is a singer, but she only knows one song.
Oh yes, she is a singer, but she only knows one song.
And when I try to sing it, she says I'm doing it wrong.

My baby is a driver, and I'm always saying please.
Well, my baby is a driver, and I'm always saying please.
But no matter how I ask her, she won't give me the keys.

My baby is an agent of a very high power.
I believe she is an agent of a very high power.
That power may be love - I have to check that with her.
Three blue stanzas.
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Look at Lake Elizabeth, the color of milk,
and clouds of boats with sails of blue silk.

"Keep the sunrise on your left" is what the captain said.
If she was right the city should be soon ahead.

June or July would have been better for this.
But we don't want to wait, so March it is.

Impossible is only a word.
Just the same, some things are absurd.

Hope for tomorrow, breath for today.
Grant me these, O world, I pray.

Gray all day and black all night.
I'm beginning to feel the absence of light.

Fire trucks are coming from all around,
to burn the old places down to the ground.

Emergency procedures are well known:
Take off your shoes and swim for home.

Draw me a pint of something hoppy.
I may get high but I won't get sloppy.

Count the gains and count the losses:
One resurrection and too many crosses.

Breath is truth, but words can lie.
Why are lies told? We all know why.

And and and and and
the open heart, the open hand.
I had love and I had science,
I thought those would be enough.
I had love and I had science,
I thought those would be enough.
Then the bottom fell out
and push came to shove.

They say love is never-ending,
and they are telling it true.
They say love is never-ending,
and they are telling it true.
But love can get so tired
it does not know what to do.

Science always has an answer,
or it says one can be found.
Science always has an answer,
or it says one can be found.
But your world may go to pieces
before they track it down.

I got no plan, I got no program,
and no comforter is near.
I got no plan, I got no program,
and no comforter is near.
Pour me a glass of strong stuff,
and let me disappear.
New blues.
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A face poem

A poem face

Poem a face

Face a poem
The correct title is Un Poème, which dA's title field did not permit.

Inspired by un poème by Hanan :iconpartiallyhere:

The image above the text is Hanan's and is used by her kind permission.

We published Unlike Things Must Meet in early 2011. Our continuing collaboration is A brave unbodied scheme.
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I drank a shot of trouble, and it burned going down.
Yes, I drank a shot of trouble and it burned going down.
You know they brew it right here, on the other side of town.

I told the bartender to pour me another shot.
Well, I told the bartender to pour me another shot.
He said, "I think you've had enough, son" - I did not care what he thought.

When there is trouble in your heart and trouble in your mind -
oh, when there is trouble in your heart and trouble in your mind -
and there is trouble in your glass, then everything is aligned.
A little blues idea I had.
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My suspension is shot and my head gasket blew again.
Yes, my suspension is shot, my head gasket blew again.
Take me to the river, and push me in.

My motherboard is missing, my hard drive has a hacking cough.
Oh, my motherboard is missing, my hard drive has a hacking cough.
Take me up on a cliff and throw me off.

My frets are worn way down, my chords clang and buzz.
Yeah, my frets are awful worn, my chords clang and buzz.
Take me to the street, throw me under a bus.

My binding is loose, my pages fall out every day.
Well, my binding is loose, my pages fall out every day.
Take me to a trash can and throw me away.

My dignity is injured, my pride is dry as a bone.              
I say my dignity is injured, my pride is dry as a bone.              
Drop me in the ocean, let me sink like a stone.

Since my baby left me, I'm useless and in despair.
Since that sweet woman left me, I'm useless and in despair.
Come home now, baby, and start doing some repair.
Inspired by something my friend *LauraTringaliHolmes said about her truck, but it went its own way after it began.
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Glass.

Translation of chapter 11.


:rose: :bulletblack: :rose: :bulletblack: :rose: :bulletblack: :rose: :bulletblack: :rose: :bulletblack: :rose: :bulletblack: :rose:

:icondonotuseplz::iconmyartplz:
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