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If Poems Were Paintings (A Scabrous Fantasy, Written After Watching J. Koons at Work On BBC4)

This poem was painstakingly transcribed by 23 unpaid

interns labouring under my cool, indifferent 'tutelage'

(and who, after each day's work is finished, in bars and cafés

across the city will pretend to their friends how valued

they're made to feel as students and protegés of mine.)

                                                                                                   E...

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🌷(2)

artfantasywriting

Fantasy

Tangled and bruised by the brutal truths.. 
Hiding in the warmly lit alleys of hope
Escape, seems a blissful route..
Comfort of illusions help to live and cope.. 

Reality strikes with consistently lethal blows.. 
Shattered, fractured, stifled moments.. 
Often leaving heart and soul somewhat hollow..
Mind awakens to unreal incitements.. 

Storm of the night left the branches barren.. 
L...

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fantasyhopeeternal

That Yellow Attire

Quiet she was from the bottom of her heart,

I never knew what she hid inside…

I made a fool of self on my part,

Just being a manager and may be a guide,

She was the girl who I took a girl always…

Not knowing there was a woman in her.

All the years I knew her she had her own ways,

And on her own benchmarks she did deliver….

I dared not to touch upon her ever nor even ask,

...

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BeautyromanceFantasy

Becoming

If you become 
what you think about 
most of the time... 

I am becoming 
poetry, a lyrical 
fantasy floating 
in rhyme. 

I am becoming 
love and light,

Doing my best
to do what's right.

I am becoming 
forgiveness 
and peace. 

Healing souls
like Wayne 
and Louise.  

I am becoming
who God intended
me to be.

Leaving a loving
legacy. 

I am becoming 
free.

###

...

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lovelightlegacyhealingsoulsdestinypoetryfantasyrhymeGodfaithforgivenesspeacefreedomWayne DyerLouise Hay

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