stones
fyn gula but the past was written with blood, not chalk and there was now way to erase it unless stones were crushed to powder and no man has the strength to do that 000119
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fyn gula but the past was written with blood, not chalk and there was no way to erase it unless stones were crushed to powder and no man has the strength to do that 000119
...
alphabetikal stones
why are they so hard. some one once told me a dog is like a stone because he isnt like a cat or fish. Meeeeoooowww
woof woof plop!! owwweeeee.
wow well
stones yeah stones are good
010124
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camille When I see your face, the stones start spinning!
You appear; all studying wanders.
I lose my place.

Water turns pearly.
Fire dies down and doesn't destroy.

In your presence I don't want what I thought
I wanted, those three little hanging lamps.

Inside your face the ancient manuscripts
seem like rusty mirrors.

You breathe; new shapes appear,
and the music of a desire as widespread
as Spring begins to move
like a great wagon.

Drive slowly.
Some of us walking alongside
are lame!
010718
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camille Rumi ~
wrote the poem above
010718
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knot meat at 11 stones...need to be at 10. remind me to never make fun of the people who cut themselves again. 040212
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Ptolemy DCLVIII strewn across the field
as if born by a scattering wind
are these grey stones
glyphless dice tossed from unseen cups
yet seeing you
across the plain
has imbued these boulders
with the greatest of meanings
060616
...
z nice. 060616
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Useless Proverbs Kick a rock, scatter the flock. 071208
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anno_salutis Years corner a stone
With weight unseen,
itself granular
at another threshold.

Just air, or water,
elements or other words,
cornering a stone into a reduction of sand,
and then from sand,
into layers of earth.

Eventually back to a stone
and then up into a mountain.
Years curve through space
like an infinite succession
of banners, or micro-strings
in a catís cradle or quilt.

Every time you walk
down the small cobbled
path of your garden
behind your house,
having latched the back
door after walking past
photos of your children when they were still children,
it is the crumbling of one stone
and the making of another.
141119
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() () 141120
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() (see: the_singing_of_stones ) 141120
what's it to you?
who go
blather
from