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The Twiddle: January 2015
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From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Wednesday, January 28, 2015. I will tell all of the ladies that you were meditating not sleeping. When I arrived during newspaper time while volunteer Samuel. In his muscle shirt was busy doing his vaudeville of the. Headline that read Is Today’s Internet Dating Yesterday's Town Social? And the half-attentive audience murmured reference to their day. When girls and boys once flirted from across dance floors, fairgrounds. In these late chapters of li...
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The Twiddle: May 2015
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From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Thursday, May 21, 2015. A man with nothing to clench. Something tightened with a wrench. A ship I built myself. A beast that feeds upon itself. With winds that tear an open sail. Something that taints the fairy tale. What makes little heads think giant thoughts. Something that turns weaker links into astronauts. What I needed when I did not believe in you. The strength to stand naked in front of you. Something that lingers long ever after. IChapbook...
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The Twiddle: The Beautiful Almost
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From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Saturday, January 24, 2015. The cat is sprawled on its side. Laying loosely upon the foot of the bed. She is lying in the shape of dancing. Like some footloose fairytale character. Rabblerousing within a cartoon cabin. Perhaps near a fire caught in mid-papyrus jig. Much to the consternation of both mice and goose. I think, if only I had a mini accordion. How I would place it between her paws. To complete her minuet, to add. Music to her dream dancing.
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The Twiddle: Sacred Heart
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From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Wednesday, February 4, 2015. It was the tiniest of holy places. A congregation of simple beads. Strung together by the rural thread. Of local farm faith. A tapestry of visions and ideas. That reveled in backyard boundaries. Handed down through generations. The catechisms and cakes sales. The sermon’s command on when to. Stand and sit or stand and kneel;. Books held open like birds in hands. As a nine year old, I often ran to the pastures.
aproseablethumbs.blogspot.com
The Twiddle: February 2015
http://aproseablethumbs.blogspot.com/2015_02_01_archive.html
From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Wednesday, February 4, 2015. It was the tiniest of holy places. A congregation of simple beads. Strung together by the rural thread. Of local farm faith. A tapestry of visions and ideas. That reveled in backyard boundaries. Handed down through generations. The catechisms and cakes sales. The sermon’s command on when to. Stand and sit or stand and kneel;. Books held open like birds in hands. As a nine year old, I often ran to the pastures.
aproseablethumbs.blogspot.com
The Twiddle: The Thought Of It
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From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Thursday, May 14, 2015. The Thought Of It. It beats the alternative. They say, I say,. First crawling, then running. Days of, “What did. I come in here for? Mornings of “Ow! What the hell was that? The thoughts of “it”. Buzzing in my head. Like a fly caught between sills. Will tomorrow be “it”? When will “it” be “it”? Hopefully amid my day-chasing. I will remind myself. There is still a “right now”. That is, if I remember where I put it.
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The Twiddle: April 2015
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From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Saturday, April 4, 2015. The morning sun, suddenly wincing through. The enormous mood of clouds hung days. Before the hill where so many waited, wailed,. For any sign at all that their recent. Born faith was not conceived in vain. The large cutout in the air where. The cross once impaled the sky. Will never fill in, leaving in its place. A transitive scent to any nose. That would later come to its senses. She inhaled what had been done to.
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The Twiddle: March 2015
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From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Monday, March 9, 2015. Thy grand and effusive tree. Your whisper does rustle high out of reach. Rolling from your thousand green tongues. Carried upon any number of breeze. Oh wooden lash upon the cheek of this hill. Tell me what happened yesterday when. I was not standing where I stand now. What came upon you with the brilliance of noon or. Nuzzled you in the shadow of a shepherd’s moon? What brought you to this place? Who do you wait for?
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The Twiddle: Long After Retirement
http://aproseablethumbs.blogspot.com/2015/01/long-after-retirement.html
From Aproseable Thumbs ™. A blog of poetic proportions. Wednesday, January 28, 2015. I will tell all of the ladies that you were meditating not sleeping. When I arrived during newspaper time while volunteer Samuel. In his muscle shirt was busy doing his vaudeville of the. Headline that read Is Today’s Internet Dating Yesterday's Town Social? And the half-attentive audience murmured reference to their day. When girls and boys once flirted from across dance floors, fairgrounds. In these late chapters of li...