/blog/elaine67/?pid=p9814 [COLOR silver][B] [font face=Kristen ITC] Prospecti on the possible contamination of myself on other bloggers. All works herein are copyrighted and sole ownership belongs to the author. [/font][/COLOR][/B][COLOR darkblue][/COLOR][B][/B] /blog/9865/post_136676.html?pid=p9814&m= I am suddenly not afraid of growing oldalone. Each time has been the last.No, I do not mind to see you smileor look into your eyesas they wander into mine.There are years to threadwithout regret.What Fri, 22 Jul 2011 23:26:12 -0800 /blog/9865/post_136676.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_136476.html?pid=p9814&m= There is time enough.A hundred years or moreyou will see me laden,vines of memory -a web of silkand lines,you'll breathe one lastkiss upon my faceand we will knowwhat death can not erase -your eyes so Tue, 12 Jul 2011 04:05:21 -0800 /blog/9865/post_136476.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_136156.html?pid=p9814&m= It begins :Trees resignTheir sound against my skin,The sun smirks And later will remind me… The air Was thick with him.If this is not loveThen tell god to give up.This master planHas landed usIn a c Wed, 22 Jun 2011 20:18:58 -0800 /blog/9865/post_136156.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_136058.html?pid=p9814&m= Well, if Wonderland can't cut it, and the Lost Boy loses his allure, what else is an Alice to do but settle in for one cold, limey g&t? Though still the aging question mark of Caterpillar remains, so Fri, 17 Jun 2011 13:24:40 -0800 /blog/9865/post_136058.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_135162.html?pid=p9814&m= She will drink the last of his sanitywith one long strawdrawing her upas he speaks to the top of her head.Bars do that -love happens in a cupthe size of my fist. Thu, 21 Apr 2011 16:10:25 -0800 /blog/9865/post_135162.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_135057.html?pid=p9814&m= There are things that make me happy, though none right now can I recall. Where has Alice gone, is she still sleeping, pocket-dreaming - holding on for Peter's fall? All disordered, hair unwinding, t Sat, 16 Apr 2011 13:03:25 -0800 /blog/9865/post_135057.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_134948.html?pid=p9814&m= I will let go of youlike the failing days of winter,although it is not in my nature.Preference has always been the darker cavesof shorter days -the lack of birdsongand nothing to disruptmy slumber.Now Mon, 11 Apr 2011 15:33:08 -0800 /blog/9865/post_134948.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_134903.html?pid=p9814&m= The landing came too soon :made of metal splitting woodflesh and airthe sound of boneand parted earth;the smell of beautyfast and failing.She lay there like a memoryin ragged leggings,all blood and ec Sat, 09 Apr 2011 12:05:56 -0800 /blog/9865/post_134903.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_134823.html?pid=p9814&m= The words are dormant, buried under the slush of cheap years. Once, a long time ago. Respite and word-play saved me and I cannot for the life of me think how to trade them back.Dammit. Tue, 05 Apr 2011 19:23:00 -0800 /blog/9865/post_134823.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_132505.html?pid=p9814&m= 'Twas the Night Before Christmas(or A Visit from St. Nicholae)'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the housenot a creature was writing, nor clicking a mouse.The posts were all decorated Wed, 22 Dec 2010 18:52:52 -0800 /blog/9865/post_132505.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_130578.html?pid=p9814&m= "Peter! I simply cannot write with all of this hullaballu." Alice said, and flung her inkwell at the nearest lost boy. "It's too much having everyone about all the time, flitting to and fro, tossin Fri, 01 Oct 2010 18:02:30 -0800 /blog/9865/post_130578.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_130469.html?pid=p9814&m= You broke mesorry but I have to saythere's parts of me lying on Main Street,your bedroom,the cloud where we loved,where we lived.They're gone nowslivers of recklessnessdo me no good.No way to find pie Sun, 26 Sep 2010 13:50:28 -0800 /blog/9865/post_130469.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_130452.html?pid=p9814&m= I dreamed I was a magicianand you were the other onewho knew what it felt liketo be flyingthrough midnight -to falland then to levitate.I traveled through time,secretly through the starscarrying befor Sat, 25 Sep 2010 15:36:48 -0800 /blog/9865/post_130452.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_130451.html?pid=p9814&m= I dreamed I was a magicianand you were the other onewho knew what it felt liketo be flyingthrough midnight -to falland then to levitate.I traveled through time,secretly through the starscarrying befor Sat, 25 Sep 2010 15:15:00 -0800 /blog/9865/post_130451.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_129591.html?pid=p9814&m= My face is minebut each linebares a memory of you:blizzard snowand rescue -right now I see it in the smile lineof 1977 -remembershovels in the waist deepwhite - the white so thickand heavy - like heav Fri, 20 Aug 2010 12:25:39 -0800 /blog/9865/post_129591.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_128793.html?pid=p9814&m= One of my poems was just accepted! I mean, holy sheesh...let me start again. It's not really a big deal, but I sent in a poem - the ghazal - to ghazalpage dot net, for the 'books' issue, not really Fri, 16 Jul 2010 13:45:04 -0800 /blog/9865/post_128793.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_128692.html?pid=p9814&m= I am protected by the lessening of your injections, and your objectionswon't bend the prison bars.It's safe where your legs won't trip youor steer you to my door.I'm sure you'd arrive, surging high, t Mon, 12 Jul 2010 18:12:30 -0800 /blog/9865/post_128692.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_128657.html?pid=p9814&m= I served the sprawl. I laid it out, all -relicked the fear, and gambled.Concrete with thirst, penitent was my survival. I formed the sprawl of compromise, building cities of disgraceand owned by my Sun, 11 Jul 2010 14:37:48 -0800 /blog/9865/post_128657.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_128635.html?pid=p9814&m= I am my mother's clutter my arms at rest, asunder.The treatise holds the balance -parchment, wind, and shutters.They say I am a sinner,I am scattered - numb as summer.Like hell, the words have meaning Sat, 10 Jul 2010 16:31:18 -0800 /blog/9865/post_128635.html?pid=p9814&m= /blog/9865/post_128498.html?pid=p9814&m= Mountains fold to shadowand the thin line of night travels close upon the horizon.The day is under me,waiting for words.And I think:if we cannot dream in color,then how is a dayto be rememberedin our Sun, 04 Jul 2010 20:51:45 -0800 /blog/9865/post_128498.html?pid=p9814&m=