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October 02, 2004



What a glorious poem. I have always considered poetry the language of love - and this is indeed a love poem to extraordinary women. Thank you for posting it.
How extraordinary of you!




Simple beautiful, hmm I guess I'll have to do a little searching for myself too.


Great poem but, pardon my ignorance, I'm not sure I get the 'don't speak English words' part.


Sounds pretty cheesy to me. how did this guy become a poet laureate anyway? another sign of cultural degradation it seems...


he's a man I'd like to go for a walk with
wish my words could speak as eloquently of man
as he has of woman
I can, since they've all treated me with utmost respect
and I suppose, that why . . .no need to at listening to him share his thought on TheAgenda Video.
it not that I ask for respect, heck, they always treat me like a guest , am eye she of whom he speaks, the gal who looks you in the eye and drinks you in, like there is not other in the world, and with that intensity of spirit, soaks in all the cosmos has give to grow in my sense of wonder about
The beauty, like the honey half moon hanging in the sky this night, well as shining on my back, ah, gave me the funkles, has you heard of them? read Bob Woodruff's book. . in any case, his lady love still gives him the funkles,
what a thought. . .
Today, th (ah, marty Robins singing in mind already)
today, the article in the paper about a novelty song. well, me thinks I have me work cut out for me for a wee. haven't a clue what we's or who, we's keying our notes in to. .
Really, I think I'll declare myself as she who was born laughing, (ah that was yesterday, by now) cause it 4 O clock in the morning on a night, I just couldn't sleep, and where once I stayed awake until and some times that'd be three in the morning, now it only till some mind blowing got to fly with this and it just about stump every body, while eye ride free and easy, in fact, fly by the seat of my pants,
give we play it by ear. . . tot ziens, as they say,
in dutch
treat them all with a smile, like I'd rather be charmingly disarming, while he with eyes cold as stone, soon voiced, 'ah that not fair'. pray tell, how many times have I heard, all's fair in love N War. . . well, since falling in love with live, its been a pleasure, most times, let go let let life, and trust the cosmos, to take you home. be present, in the hear N now.
carry on with the merry mend

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