Eudaimonia

~ The birds all fall in accolades, on mornings in Central Virginia. Colorful chorals that escalade –      pro forma,      concerti,      eudaimonia. On and on, no stoppage the song, way long when morning’s forgotten. All in all, a sound, a funk; melodious risings, to mountains! I might hear Thelonius Monk. […] Continue reading

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Summer Magic

~ Those deep May days, someone will say, somewhere in Central Virginia:      It’s the end of the month, where people will jump –      Winter is gone from Virginia. And boys wearing flip-flops watch girls in their gym shorts take out their pups for short walks, from porches. And from such enclosures, […] Continue reading

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if it quacked like a duck

~ a neighbor spends hours each day of the week shifting through flowers a garden she keeps and when days turn rainy the days dark and deep she goes deep inside but outside she weeps she can’t be with gardens in flowers she seeks but stays in her house where otherwise sleeps where neighbors are […] Continue reading

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Shards of Gray Glass

~ Each piece, a poem; the leaf of a tree – The common connection, poetry. Caedmon began his in England; where no one at such time should know him. O Sappho, of Lesbos, what be thy fame? Shards of gray glass antiquity claims? Ideas hold fast; when all comes to pass, nothing holds past, all […] Continue reading

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We’re Not The Gods

~ The last words you’ve said, To someone you love – Will they be of something substantial? The future unfolds into what, We’re not told – It might just be best to be natural. And then there’s the hope, From the ones whom you love – The feelings which comeback be mutual. But we’ll never […] Continue reading

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Farewell to all that

~ Farewell to the ocean, the notion of fun; warm days and sun rays, California sun. Goodbye to the patrons who wished for us well; Farewell to the chevron, two years of hell. Comes now the moment, we knew that it would, lying once latent, it shows when it should. Adios, mis amigos; adieu, everyone. […] Continue reading

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from a distance

the lawn looks lovely lovely and wet a valley bucolic comelier yet everything lovely as further you get as then when much closer you get what you vet ©2015, Marvin Welborn 28 July 2015

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Episodical

…. The puppy of Hooville pees where he must! While two Robins fight for the very same bush. A man walks his Bulldog, he’s taking it home; Where there, the dog buries a well hidden bone. A lady of genteel lives all alone, She Lives off a trust, a family capstone. She hires the young […] Continue reading

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Flying Into Fall

~ 
Sometimes I go out, my fly, wide open; most times, I won’t catch it, at all! ~ perhaps, it’s a stretch of old imagination, or hoping, it’s a Freudian Slip – not Fall. ~ But aging is different, by old and tired bodies; raging Young archetypes spring forth and then fall. ~ And a […] Continue reading

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The Heart of the Beast

~ There’s just so much non-sense a soul can endure, From trivial minded, decided, obdure. I met one, one time, demeaning for sure, The current machine as debase and impure. Oh sure, they still do it, again and again; Forever and ever, and on to no end. Things just get bad for whoever is in. […] Continue reading

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The Long Conversation

~ Who am I? What is my Purpose? What is the Meaning of Life? How should I know my Role in the Cosmos? Why do I have to die? What is this Love, and Sorrow and Laughter? What is this Yearning to Try? And why does it Turn, all that we Learn, Back, into Dust […] Continue reading

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In the Conceit of a Poem

~ By its shapes, how it smells, and by looking to tell all the whats, wheres and whens to the senses, a poet survives by bringing alive all those thats, theres and thens to the pensées. And all, by deceit! Word-verbiage feat! Ah well. What the hell. What’s the metaphor for, but conceit. And you […] Continue reading

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Blame it on Logic

~ I still write on paper, I still use a pen; Made in the Fifties, The Sixties I am. Bless me, sweet Mama, Bless if you can; A turn of the cent’ry, A teenager again. The turn of the cent’ry Is where I now am, But born to the Sixties A Rock-n-Roll Man. My Pop […] Continue reading

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Truman Capote

~ Another book finished, A much smarter man; Reading the first part, Then jumping to end. Truman Capote, That’s how he would wend Through hundreds of good books, If not a thousand. ~ And when he had finished He claimed that he knew All of the writings Of writers – He knew! Not a close […] Continue reading

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Minor Inceptions

Minor Inceptions ~ The curve, in the road; A wind in the bend; Trees among sidewalks; Homes, without end. These are the few things, Reminding again, That minor inceptions Stay there and then. It all could be different; A difference depends On minor inceptions Of how, where and when. One thing for someone, Remembering, Is […] Continue reading

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