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The Imaginarium:  A creative wasteland

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Where the Sandman Sleeps

2/11/2007

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I would sail away
In a little boat
Full of sand; it would be
Heavy as lead, coarse as salt in a wound

And I would burn
as the sun  sets
its teeth in me.  Pain so hot
It would melt away the cold and ice in the moon.

And I would watch
as the darkness
folds in;  tucked away
In a place where I would be gone for good

                                
And I would drown
as the boat sinks
full of sand; falling away,
To the bottom
                         of the sea,
                                          there being
                                                                 better understood........

And I would rest.

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    Nakedness

    For many years, I hid my poetry and writings.  It would seem that fear of judgment was an obstacle, the shadow of which I was all-too complacent to hide in.     

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