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A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. This is the block. Black is the mark. Where the blade hit. That my warm fire. Means that this tree. Will no longer transpire. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 2:58 PM. Any more than this:. Let the earth hold you. When you feel the soil. The sticks the stones. You know you are held. I am the earth. In an open hand. My valleys and hills. Your family and friends. They are the earth. Let them hold you. When you feel the embrace. The cuddles the kisses.

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words woven | wordswoven.blogspot.com Reviews

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A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. This is the block. Black is the mark. Where the blade hit. That my warm fire. Means that this tree. Will no longer transpire. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 2:58 PM. Any more than this:. Let the earth hold you. When you feel the soil. The sticks the stones. You know you are held. I am the earth. In an open hand. My valleys and hills. Your family and friends. They are the earth. Let them hold you. When you feel the embrace. The cuddles the kisses.

<META> KEYWORDS

1 words woven

2 block splitter

3 that i split

4 where violence

5 released beauty

6 and the grain

7 whose duty

8 is to carry

9 the water

10 from the bottom

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words woven,block splitter,that i split,where violence,released beauty,and the grain,whose duty,is to carry,the water,from the bottom,like a porter,to the top,and the leaves,but not now,and it grieves,me a little,0 comments,holding hands,you cannot do

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words woven | wordswoven.blogspot.com Reviews

https://wordswoven.blogspot.com

A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. This is the block. Black is the mark. Where the blade hit. That my warm fire. Means that this tree. Will no longer transpire. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 2:58 PM. Any more than this:. Let the earth hold you. When you feel the soil. The sticks the stones. You know you are held. I am the earth. In an open hand. My valleys and hills. Your family and friends. They are the earth. Let them hold you. When you feel the embrace. The cuddles the kisses.

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wordswoven.blogspot.com

1

words woven: you don’t have to be here

http://wordswoven.blogspot.com/2007/06/you-dont-have-to-be-here.html

A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. You don’t have to be here. On a rolled out mat. Cause you haven’t found. The knack to bring them back. From the last class. And dates and times. Climbs into the front seat. Your thoughts will be. Let them tumble out. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 10:15 pm. Subscribe to Post Comments [ Atom. View my complete profile. The wings of my dreams. Under the missile shield. Waiting outside the doctor’s. Between you and me. How was your trip?

2

words woven: January 2006

http://wordswoven.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html

A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. A cold blue sting. No place for sound. Or the earth trying. Not to be seen. The ice cannot follow. In the air rages. Down a new track. How best to attack. Takes in the slow. The ball of fire rises. Despises that frozen spine. From the hot earth. Of a new birth. Who can ever hear. When the daggers of ice. When it’s all gone. The light in the. Heart of the sky showed. And in a black sky. And the land musters. Will be a warning. Of what is and.

3

words woven: block splitter

http://wordswoven.blogspot.com/2010/10/block-splitter.html

A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. This is the block. Black is the mark. Where the blade hit. That my warm fire. Means that this tree. Will no longer transpire. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 2:58 pm. Subscribe to Post Comments [ Atom. View my complete profile. Life had worked out. Where things come together. You don’t have to be here.

4

words woven: November 2005

http://wordswoven.blogspot.com/2005_11_01_archive.html

A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. At what i do. Without a line of sight. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 9:55 pm. And the status quo. Would we be silhouettes of light? Posted by Grant Morgan @ 9:53 pm. To be on guard. For what you are. To what might be. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 9:50 pm. View my complete profile. Life had worked out. Where things come together. You don’t have to be here.

5

words woven: August 2005

http://wordswoven.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html

A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. At night it comes back. And you find yourself. A sliver of panic. To let it flow. Held in the spotlight. When you were coupled. Why does it come back. Just when i think i’m alright. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 4:45 pm. I wrote her a letter,. Then called her on the phone,. I wasn’t really enjoying. Just sitting home alone. I wanted to see,. Just wanted to check,. If she shared my hope,. Maybe a tiny speck. But when she said no. And for a while.

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joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Wednesday, December 10, 2003. When you can't stop falling asleep during the day. There are times, often on a hot day, well, often on any day, when I can't stop falling asleep. Like, it's a real effort to stay awake. Duh They're supposed to be obsessing about some dumb-ass chart and yet they see the tiniest head movement from you. That really sucks. Is it time for a nap yet? Posted by joe.x.bloggs @ 10:07 PM. Sunday, December 07, 2003. A trip to the dentist.

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joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2005/12/this-is-fun-uh-oh.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Wednesday, December 14, 2005. This is fun. Uh, oh. Yesterday Uluru, tomorrow the world. (See two posts down - Earth google.). OK, now let's go. Key 'Murray River Australia' into Earth Google. It's locking onto where? That's nowhere near Australia. We're in the middle of North America. It looks like . Kansas City. Zoom in. It looks like a new suburb, all curly courts and unfinished houses. We're lost, Toto. Is it time for a nap yet? I hope you're ready to play!

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joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Monday, January 31, 2005. Friday December 31 1971. And we're living in a caravan. Without air conditioning. That's OK, I like hot weather. And the heaving ocean is only a minute away. The heat rose, shimmered on the horizon. The smell of eucalypt was heavy on the breeze. The day swam by slowly in a daze of hot sand, burning skin and blue waves. On the radio in the caravan:. The lion sleeps tonight. The lion sleeps tonight. Is it time for a nap yet? For once, my uncle ...

bloggsjoe.blogspot.com

joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2006/01/mad-math.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Saturday, January 07, 2006. He should concentrate on his bike riding more. It's crazy out there. North Carlton to St Kilda is straight through the CBD. He'll get knocked over. All that gazing about associating numbers with places. Uh, 2150 - the Shrine. 2151, tramstop 24. 2152, that imitation Rodin statue outside 464 St Kilda Rod. 2153, Wesley College.". Is it time for a nap yet? Posted by joe.x.bloggs @ 6:55 PM. Comments: Post a Comment. Send me an email.

bloggsjoe.blogspot.com

joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Tuesday, March 16, 2004. And autumn is in its early, warm, golden, hazy, calm days. Cooler air, as if warning of the months to come, steals around the trees and across the grass in the evenings, and the light dies earlier. The mornings are fresh. Of course, on the other side of the world, it is spring and everyone there is looking forward to summer. They call autumn 'fall'. It's much better and more poetic than autumn. 'She comes, in the autumn .'. Three Men In a Boat.

bloggsjoe.blogspot.com

joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2005/12/another-day-another-moron-goes-to-zoo.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Tuesday, December 13, 2005. Another day, another moron goes to the zoo; gets finger bitten off; calls for more safety; zoo installs electric fences to shock lions. Can you believe this? Just because some idiot woman stuck her stupid hand near the lion, the zoo has caved in and installed electric fences inside the enclosure which will shock the lions (just an 'unpleasant buzzing sensation', said the zoo). Is it time for a nap yet? I'm with the letter writer!

bloggsjoe.blogspot.com

joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Thursday, November 27, 2003. The president flew to Baghdad to have dinner. I hope he enjoyed it. I used to drive a hundred miles for really good hamburgers, just for a lark, you know, when you're a teenager and first get your licence and a car. There was thisgreat hamburger shop in a town a hundred miles away, so I'd drive there and get a 'burger with the lot. Is it time for a nap yet? Posted by joe.x.bloggs @ 10:17 PM. Sunday, November 16, 2003. Send me an email.

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joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-didnt-think-it-were-possible-to.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Thursday, January 12, 2006. I didn't think it were possible to laugh like a maniac and have sex at the same time. I wonder what they're thinking? Maybe that they might fall out of the tree. Is it time for a nap yet? Posted by joe.x.bloggs @ 6:21 PM. Comments: Post a Comment. Send me an email. A very noble aim. A writer in the UK. An artist in Australia. Jake's late night show. My own cooking site.

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joe bloggs

http://bloggsjoe.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html

Stuff happens. then you fall asleep. Wednesday, January 28, 2004. When the hell did that happen? Is it time for a nap yet? Posted by joe.x.bloggs @ 10:36 PM. Send me an email. A very noble aim. A writer in the UK. An artist in Australia. Jake's late night show. My own cooking site.

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A poem is a lump of wood that holds the door open - GRANT MORGAN. This is the block. Black is the mark. Where the blade hit. That my warm fire. Means that this tree. Will no longer transpire. Posted by Grant Morgan @ 2:58 PM. Any more than this:. Let the earth hold you. When you feel the soil. The sticks the stones. You know you are held. I am the earth. In an open hand. My valleys and hills. Your family and friends. They are the earth. Let them hold you. When you feel the embrace. The cuddles the kisses.

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