Month: September 2025
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Dreams Like Stemmed Vessels
Dreams temper over the dust like tangled clouds of pearl rings, sorrow dancing like liberated catechism of ore and stilted bows, fixated for Moth’ar ‘Arthes natural tune…. She is stalled...
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Arguments like parched persistence
The dam is near as unsightly as it may be ingratiating itself upon our shoulders like scattered bread in palms salient greenwood skylines for the vagaries of death The frightened...
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Quite On The Other Side of Town
There are white whales on the calean oceanfronts waxing conspiratorial fecund moated starter parties for political playbooks read by the English, the sandboxes, and those with red hat fire clearance...
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Fifth book of poetry added to Internet Archive
Book 5 – Poems Postponed https://archive.org/details/book-5-poems-postponed-by-richard-j-tilley Previous books poetry at Internet Archive Upon The Written Hourshttps://archive.org/details/upon-the-written-hours-richard-jtilley/Upon%20The%20Writte%20Hours%20by%20Richard%20J%20Tilley/page/n253/mode/2up By The Journey Of Sandshttps://archive.org/details/by-the-journey-of-sands-richard-j-tilley Carnival Rations And Other Poemshttps://archive.org/details/carnival-rations-and-other-poems-by-richard-j-tilley_202506 In The Winds Of...
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coarse lunar distance habitation
bailed out high on the moon with dutiable failing returning ancient flags or crests of trial weather like timber scowls for retroactive Sunday clouds and makeshift storm drain lies where...
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New Arrivals in Cortina d’Ampezzo
strings plucking aristocratic pilgrimage fine sets of hammers like portions of wine spilling guts for bare hens brown Water Pipits running down the Alps like soldiers from a train romance...
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Mildred August donates blood for the refugee camps outside of Wall Street
When the wind has lowed to grass fired plains, asphalt for doorsteps will take noble holiday trespasses against shoe-born stethoscopes like Mildred August driven away to the porch processing camp,...
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The Sleeping Giants of Nesbinth
David Crosby brushed against my shoulder, gingras in hand, and we made fun of Neil Young “A man needs a maid,” Neil said. No, we said, you just lust for...
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sleeping patron of the arts
cold as knives inside that do not curl obversely taking natural tokens in medicine cabinets with bulletproof vests doctoring the lawn with Sabine’s Gulls like a northern outpost of remote...
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the congruent mercies of gravel ponds
spherule newscast ritual mechanics mountains descale sedimentary lining chains hold the tip to the surface, waiting, like peach orchard antagonist books scaling the subsided wanderings and brooked control saying, “I...