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  #6361  
Old Yesterday, 12:00 AM
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I make a Sight—sate or slacken—
Mankind is a Heap—gorged
Or a Term—as I weigh in—
The Tides—do I command,

I hold Preference to the skies—
Greater, in my Hand
Abaft lesser Clout—about—
A foggy Day’s Cloister—

Inasmuch as I Direct it—
It—Life—and Tyranny
Who is the Monocrat—none can find—
Nor was I in the Question—

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  #6362  
Old Yesterday, 04:12 AM
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Easy Wealth—grew I—
Although my Yield—
Was certain as the Day—
And in the Evening, counted more
Than the previous—notch,

Thru-out the Year, I made the Age
Yet the discernless Game—
Assumed fewer by Increasing—
Than the System that it’d grown.
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  #6363  
Old Yesterday, 04:14 AM
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she had thought it often enough, this writing getting harder and the ease with which to usher her words into a pit stop, Grace and chat elegant in their lapping. ‘So made it home babes and they’ll sort it out in a few days ... do love that school run but it’s dangerous terrain with an unreliable set of wheels’ ... He watched her thoughts triggered, synaptic waves crashing - flash the flooding ... some manufacturers have a reputation for innovation, they put prototypes out there cheaper than their competitors without exhaustive trials and the consumer burdens the risk. That, back then had been a sweet ride but it’s design flaws made it incompatible with a life on the road. ‘... anna ground to a halt once on passing through a tunnel, a busy motorway - speeds like autobahn, middle lane of four and a chatty one in the back oblivious until not then. You know a Porsche shunted us babe! ... saw him cruising ever nearer in the rear view mirror, he simply reversed - met anna’s gaze in the passing and sped off ...’ Liquid calm the moment of life-death decision making - whether to get out of the vehicle and flag down the traffic or remain that sitting duck heartbeats away from a pileup. ‘Do you get out and run for the hills, sort of flee this reality or brace yourself, freeze or fight babe? ...’ anna had jumped out and stopped the motorway flow lane by lane, willing them to see her ... only then grabbing the fetal clenched toddler by one arm from his car seat as those purposeful menfolk tried to push her car across to the hard shoulder before continuing on thankful for their lives. ‘It had to be dragged over by mechanical winch eventually, gearbox seized. The whole incident over in a matter of minutes ... often wonder if Porche man remembers the deal he made that day ...’


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  #6364  
Old Yesterday, 04:41 AM
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Twice thought I that Love had arrived
Though Love had fled the Sight—
Like marooned men—
Expect they scan the mainland—
But midway of Davy Jones’s Locker—

And grapple escapeless—only to test
Just as desperately as me—
How many the illusory Banks—
Afore the Wharf should be.
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  #6365  
Old Yesterday, 03:30 PM
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I aimed to meet Her if I could—
But Death had— the same mind
Yet the Prize was His—it delivers;
And the Loss—Mine—

I wisht to relay how I’d hoped
Upon just the lone Occasion—
But Death had got caught up—in First—
As such, she had spent, with Him—

I amble now—tis my Peace—
Moreover to lie still—to lie’d be—
The advance of Tempest
To past—and Me.—
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  #6366  
Old Yesterday, 09:16 PM
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I wanted to need—just humble means—
Like inner Peace and Pearly Gates open’d;
Within avails—'twould appeased be
Like so, Heav’n and I’d—be broken—

Seeing that the latter—included myth—
'Twere got by my Demeanor,
And also the First—but I ammend—
My Tact could bring Either—

And so, unto this Thread—I beseech:
O Jis, give in to me—
A Wonder not Mighty as Thine,
But mite—ample—to be—

A steeped Calm about my Face—
The Seraphs—all drew back—
Somber Saints crept along—in my Grace
Although they number up—within Almanac—

I fled my House, left my clothes—
My doorway is still open—
The Tide has soakt it up—
And Raptures—glimmered—alas—

That I so extant—yet be hopeful—
Took I the Reason for—Truth
That “Howsoever ye shall asketh,
It become given unto you"—

Now I, more cunning—search the Sky
For some green-eyed Pair—
As a Charlatan—cheating—Crime—
Cagey Frauds—be out—for Air—
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  #6367  
Old Yesterday, 11:34 PM
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I rarely felt at Home—before—
Though in the highest Manors—
I cannot feel it there—I know—
My Kingdom down below,—

Although ’tis Sabbath—from Behaviors,
That I’ve gleaned upon,—
Should Christ Himself make a Call
Nor ever paused to explain—heal all—

Such ways to say—densen and ram
Some Telescopes down our neck—
I’d flee from Him—as long it be
To escape the Day, you see?
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  #6368  
Old Today, 01:35 AM
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I saw this Prince today at Noon—
He had on the Headdress of course,
The Garland, wreath was all,
And he was imposing—on a horse!

Quite certain I am he Sovereign was—
Inside this ashen Tunic's azure—
And certain I am, the Insignia and laws
Inside that Tunic’s fold, I’m sure!

For ’twas far too much splendor—
A Viscount couldn’t get off so ambitious!
Mayhap a Tzar bantam—
A Bishop—something else luxurious!

I seemed some outward, frayed Hazard
His Eminence overlookt—
Restless a majestic outing
This sovereign anytime booked!

I wonder shall the noble Carriage
About which stay Pages and Knaves
Have importance similar, up high;—
O, how my entire Estate—raves!
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  #6369  
Old Today, 05:13 AM
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I never hear the word “misery”:
Without a childish tug—
The hurried flash of apprehension,
The lofty inclination;

I never read of armed guards
Before the Mansion—cover—
That Strain—Heave—drags me down,
Just to damn the light of day;—

I never feel imprisoned
With manservants around—
But then, it is a steep somersault
For some who’ve had without.
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  #6370  
Old Today, 05:38 AM
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I had not bet but once
And ’twas in the clear,
Only Once did I stand
Before my father’s door!

Sweet—that paragon of beauty
Paid off my meager sum—
Robber! Baron!—Dear!
I was rich once before!
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  #6371  
Old Today, 07:39 AM
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I’ve never seen an Angel;
And I know they aren’t Real—
But I know one who thinks he has—
By my delighted face!

I’ve never stayed in Heaven
Nor would I ever—Need—
But I’ve certain—felt it better
As the sheets tore even.
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  #6372  
Old Today, 04:12 PM
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I measure some hidden treasure
Atop a mountain—all eyes—
Then, the sun—his pillage won
Hunch below and stake his prize;

He bent right here,
As brought you near—
A space had left among
Had an arrow cut up the heel
My soul had given overlong;

That was sublime ore—
I wish 'twas trusting made;
’Tis about the fairest mold
Had ever blest the probe!

If I should hold my secrets;
If I should bear guise;
If and as I weary wander
Rent and income abrupt—

Would—insider acquaint me
Could I haply intersect—
Said insider play Judas;
Lachesis bisect!
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