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November Confessions of Liberty

November 01, 2011  Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Not Exactly Random   8 Comments

When you have seen what no man should see

Through the lens of a child’s mortal eye

Heartache takes on a strange twist

Loneliness is something terribly different

And all the poems about love and lost

Are now bittersweet lies with neither

The bitter nor the sweet.

There is certain cadence to

Recognizing wickedness

A ever-present beat

Giving life to unusual things.

It’s more than a heartbeat

It’s the pulse of the earth

Singing that

To

Make

Things

Better

Change

One

Person

At

A

Time

Make

The

Choice

Grab

It

Own

It

It’s

Yours

Alone

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8 comments on: November Confessions of Liberty

  1. Rachael de Vienne November 10, 2011 at 6:30 pm

    Roses are red,
    violets are blue,
    Pixes don’t write serious poems
    even if you do.

    Love is fine,
    Kinda devine,
    I like mine with cluddles and kisses
    from someone who will do the dishes.

    Hi, Anthony!

  2. Anthony November 11, 2011 at 8:42 am

    Hey there Rachael Pixie. Hope you didn’t fall into the dark and stormy ocean blog background while commenting.

  3. Harry Hancock November 11, 2011 at 9:22 am

    I like your serious poem. Especially today, Veteran’s Day.

    And as for Rachael… her rhyming scheme is off in her second verse — devine and dishes?

    Speaking of dark and stormy. She probably has a copy of “Paul Clifford”, by Victorian novelist Edward Bulwer-Lytton in her bookcase.

    • Anthony November 11, 2011 at 9:29 am

      Thanks for stopping by, Harry!

      • Rachael de Vienne November 11, 2011 at 11:40 am

        everyone’s a literary critic! Harry, the scheme changes for verse two. sheesh. men!

  4. Harry Hancock November 11, 2011 at 12:10 pm

    To Rachael:

    Well… [insert loud, wet raspberry]!

    • Rachael de Vienne November 11, 2011 at 12:12 pm

      a loud wet raspberry? let me edit: sheesh, boys!

  5. Anthony November 11, 2011 at 12:28 pm

    I spent four years in high school writing faux angst poetry that rhymed.

    My problem was, I was dating a poet. This girl had a profound impact on me (both in and out of bed). One day she showed me a poem she had written that was so fundamentally perfect, I completely gave up the rhyming style. I can’t even do a limerick without rebellion. I came into my own style, and that style may have the occasional words that rhyme, but that was it.

    Fast forward twenty years and I start to study music theory. I’m looking at chord progressions that are going:

    A
    B
    B
    A

    and so on. My brain goes… wait a minute. Nooooooooo! It’s all related!

    Man that girl could kiss like nobody’s business.

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