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Autumn Breeze Screams, Keith H.J. Bevins: A quick thought of fall.
Beating the Bounds, Stiubhard Og: Delightful images of how a child explores the world.
Brain Drippings, Derek Hawkins: In the wee hours of a sleepless night, out come the Brain Drippings.
Coma Nation, James Quinton: Why raise your voice and rage against a sleeping nation that won't listen?
Delicate Like a Web Strand, Keith H.J. Bevins: What is a man if he is not as strong and as ephemeral as a spider's web?
Dreaming, Kat Jones: Dreams of a glorious past that exists only in our imagination.
Drifter, Karen Jones: We all wander through life alone.
Epic of Bug, Keith H.J. Bevins: An epic poem in three lines.
Every Morning Comes, James Quinton: The coming of the morning brings with it the loss of the dreams of night.
Footprints, David Fraser: Whatever path we take, the least we leave is the footprints of our passing.
Headache, Kat Jones: Whatever the source of our pain, we seek relief in our mind.
I Cannot Cry, Keith H.J. Bevins: A heart so broken tears fail to flow.
In Silence, John Sweet: A man is punished for his mistakes by facing a wall of silence from those around him, and from inside himself.
Life, Keith H.J. Bevins: Allegorical look at the course we sail through life.
My Hero, His Heroin, Christa Jones: A sad reflection on losing a personal hero to the grips of addiction.
The Palace of Curtains, John Sweet: Civilized society erects walls of curtains to hide the ills it knows not how to heal.
Pretending to Be, David Fraser: Are we what we show the world, or what we hide within?
Princess Lyssa and the Magic Horse, J. Dennis McKay: A fairy tale poem for children.
Shall My Rival Fall, Donovan Galway: Sometimes, we must let our rival stand to see him fall.
Sundays, Karen Jones: A solitary, restful day for contemplation.
The Wind, Donovan Galway: When love is deep, it can be a wind that transports, transforms, revitalizes, and renews us.
Through the Limitless Madness of Life, Keith H.J. Bevins: A deeper exploration on the journey of life.
To Flame, To Thee, Donovan Galway: Love held at bay, by time and distance, is the flame on the horizon a moth can never reach.
Wake My Love, Kat Jones: A call to awaken a lost love.
Watching the Credits Late At Night, David Fraser: What emptiness are we left with after the credits have rolled?
Within, Karen Jones: First part of a duet exploring how we perceive ourselves, and how we are perceived by others, and how these different perspectives affect how we deal with the world around us.
Without, Karen Jones: Second part of a duet exploring how we perceive ourselves, and how we are perceived by others, and how these different perspectives affect how we deal with the world around us.