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Manish Singh Rajput on Sitting To Write
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Manish Singh Rajput on Peninsula
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Tim Higbee on Peninsula
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Auracle on In memoriam...
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Auracle on Eradicating an old flame pain
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Christmas Lights

Blue lights on the top road, I can see, over there,
Half way up the hillside, meaning trouble
Across the valley, through bare winter trees
With branches like the arms of bony skeletons
Tendril fingers scratching at the sky

Blue lights at a distance, almost enchanting,
This near to Christmas: twinkling,
They move at speed, though,
Across my plane of vision, then suddenly
Stop.

Bring...

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Status Update

There are those who check the obituary

In the local paper, be it the Hull Daily Mail

Or the Huddersfield Daily Examiner

Before they decide to get up on a morning

(In T S Eliot’s day, it was the Boston Evening Transcript.)

 

These winter mornings, I know how they feel

Waking cold, to a grey dawn smeared across my window

But I have a technological solution:

I check my Face...

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I Never Made Promises Lightly

The moon making a lattice of branches tonight,

Outside the window of my room

Seems strangely cold; Somehow, I wish that you

Were here to warm it. Impossible, though,

Even though tomorrow is your birthday,

Cancelled out by your being dead

Thirty-four years.

 

Thirty four years, full stop, and yet I feel

You still very close tonight, as the wind

Murmurs the moonlit bran...

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Sentry Duty

Halt! who goes there?

Maybe it’s just the darkness coming up the garden

Between and through the trees

Like Birnam wood, en route to Dunsinane.

 

I’’ll take first watch, I thought,

And here I am again, the lone sentry,

Just me and my little bayonet,

Holding back the dark

By staring into it, defiantly.

 

These nights, this time of year,

A feeble glimmer around

...

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To An Old Ex On Her Birthday

Why do I do this, why torture myself

With these visions of summer hedgerows

Laden heavy with fragrant blossoms;

And Chichester harbour, the masts of yachts

At the bottom of opulent lawned gardens,

Roman palaces once found underneath;

Mosaics we once paid a pound to see?

 

Why do I do this, why do I even allow

You in my dreams and musings?

Even though I know you’re now

...

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