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The Borrowed Poem
To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
a pillow for my soul.
Your face is my palace,
your eyes – blue, near –
a pillow for my soul.
In the Palace of Your Face [excerpt]
Abraham Joshua Heschel
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slowly with you,
Won't you
always
I Ask You
First Anniversary of The BP
At a Window
Come back to me.Apocalypto
speaks to me
on jealousy
a pillow for my soul.
and I realize... Life is good.
I am lying
Nobody loves no one
Bliss!
New York
Water Serpent II
Whatever happens.
he smiles a real smile
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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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