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The Borrowed Poem
To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
your breath alone
The perfume of your body dulls my sense.
I want nor wine nor weed; your breath alone
Suffices.
Flower of Love [excerpt]
Claude McKay
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nothin'
Beautiful, unanswerable questions.
This morning
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910
I'm so
Shall I cry out in anger,
your breath alone
Bar Napkin Sonnet #11
Contigo mi vida,
Poem
no house now
on choosing a mate
to make others happy
wild promise
Morgensonne, 1952
Choose
only when you believe it
elevate his life
but you're not here
We read
Confession
on uniqueness
on meaning in life
And if we kept traveling west,
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About Me
Steve Grant
New York, NY
Be patient that I address you in a poem. There is no other fit medium.
View my complete profile
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