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livingpoetry.net
| | bartbarkerpoet.com
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| | Solitude is not blue that's loneliness with all its sapphire longing and deep ocean waves Solitude is not magenta that's abandonment with a twinge of crimson anger sputtering into flame No, solitude is the color of leaves in the middle of April new hope draping an old tree with emeralds emerging from the soil
| | bartbarkerpoet.com
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| | Poets live on the outskirts of life all the better to observe from a distance happiness is not an advantage Every community needs four poets one for each of the four winds a leader - a dreamer a sister and one to ride the horses that never lie (Another poem from Sunday's Germination Workshop, written...
| | bartbarkerpoet.com
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| | Too tired to sleep Stomach pacing 'round my spine Thoughts spin down black holes (for this week's Living Poetry Prompt)
| | acairnofpoems.com
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| Despite studying his poem My Last Duchess for O-level, Robert Browning (1812-1889) has never been a poet who spoke to me as directly as many other poets, including other Victorian poets. His poems are often tricky and require untangling (a pleasure with Donne's poems but somehow irritating with Browning's) but some poems are simple and...