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dulcimer
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mon
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please wait for me
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040126
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flux
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sweet instrument?
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040128
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mon
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indeed! dulcimer: sweet sound a dream shaped from wood and wire fretted local mountain strings by the leaving door i spied it hiding how one pluck of the strings amazing can so seduce me into wanting! for it to still be there some weirdness i am planning next time i go to the music store they won't take my money they'll say "oh no, so sorry. it's free. it has been waiting" alas, i think i'm dreaming.
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040128
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mon
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a sweet song the dulcimer
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040128
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oldephebe
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yeah notme i used to think the same way..sometimes still do..to love everything..seems like a part of you has to die in order for you to deal..'cause sometimes it's just too much..the love the sadness..the empathy..the beauty of it all..i mean you want to be this gentle..humble person..carrying the worlds ache within..trying to keep your baser instincts at bay and keep from being stomped down by the malice ridden and surface shimmering people..i get that..we NEED to keep telling ourselves to one another..projecting the substance of what we are upon the other's imagination..if they felt your heart it would overwhelm them..the Other..we will make one another whole..i mean as a species..i think doars' going to be OK..though..keep sharing and aching out of your open heart out loud..nomme, you have one of the more honest voices here..and i weep sometimes at it's fullness, it's honesty, it's sadness..your words make a mark in me.. ... 040426 ... oldephebe oh the cups of my eyes are full of the bounty of your words.. pulls me from my purgatorial pall.. and though i walk strong in the midst of the throng.. not letting the exhaustion of all my endings, bleed into my eyes.. and turn the torch fires down.. sometimes mon when i encounter your words it is like touching hands with any honor guard of glory.. similiar to the way pd's words affect me.. but different.. the pain of your words falling like firepetals upon the spittle.. choked flames suddenly flaring to life. thankyou.. i can still be touched by these things.. little things it seems... sometimes it's like hurtling through twilight into welcoming shards of impaling panes housing the dead body of my family i awake to that and then to encounter your honest, true words... dreampangs taking shape into this vine of stony thorns undulating in me all day.. Thank you again mon
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040426
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nom
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oh my.
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040426
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nom
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oh my.
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040426
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once more for good measure
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oh my.
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040426
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remorfus
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A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw : It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. - Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "Kubla Khan"
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040426
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magpie
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the last one waited
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040522
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magpie
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it's so very pretty i can't wait to take it home
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040522
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mon
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it will teach me
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040523
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nom
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i need to make a bag or a case for it
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061229
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unhinged
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the one hanging on the wall in his house would probably sound very satisfying to smash
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061230
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what's it to you?
who
go
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blather
from
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