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found poetry | pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle | foundpoetry.wordpress.com Reviews
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pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle
foundpoetry.wordpress.com
clearly excessive | found poetry
https://foundpoetry.wordpress.com/2008/08/17/clearly-excessive
Pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle. We’re in a period where house prices. Are clearly adjusting to a new level,. And buyers and sellers are struggling. To find out what that new level is. The market will determine it,. Not us or the government. Once we’ve reached that level,. But that does not mean. Back to levels seen early last year. That were clearly excessive. 8212; Mervyn King, governor of the Bank of England, quoted in. On August 17, 2008 at 8:49 am Leave a Comment. Enter your comment here.
found poetry | pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle | Page 2
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Pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle. Conflicts of interest aborted initiatives for the deployment of american democracy. Thank you for the victors! What happened in qana a crime against humanity. Israel takes innocent lost comet. The implants do not derive only wind storm. Allow re-deployment and use of any article on the site, provided the source is appropriate. 8212; from today’s front page at aafaq.org. From Arabic by Google Translate (beta). On March 3, 2007 at 12:02 pm Leave a Comment. As a ...
did this get done yet? | found poetry
https://foundpoetry.wordpress.com/2007/04/09/did-this-get-done-yet
Pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle. Did this get done yet? New myth to bust. Free energy levitation made at home. Stop, drop and roll. Gasoline melting structural steel. 6 crackers in 1 minute. Soda that stains teeth and faeces. Dog’s mouth cleaner. Tennis ball or cellphone unlocking car. Bologna on a car hood. Reflection from the eye. Man on the moon. Penny from the empire state. Finger in the barrel. Grape in a microwave. Shot in a crucifix. Voices of dead on tape. Soap in the sheets. An error...
the future has arrived | found poetry
https://foundpoetry.wordpress.com/2008/10/19/the-future-has-arrived
Pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle. The future has arrived. The commodity and emerging market booms. Are breaking in unison, leaving no more bubbles. Left to burst. Almost every corner of the world. Is now being drawn into the vortex of debt deflation. But it will not spare us a decade-long toil. Of pitiful growth or none at all. As we purge debt. The world stole prosperity. From the future for year after year,. With the full collusion of governments,. Regulators, and central banks. PoetryTeache...
ten things he does not want you to do | found poetry
https://foundpoetry.wordpress.com/2008/06/23/carlin-ten-things
Pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle. Ten things he does not want you to do. Religion has actually convinced people. That there’s an invisible man. Living in the sky. And he has a list of ten things. He does not want you. And if you do any,. Any, of these ten things,. He has a special place. Full of fire and smoke and ash and torture. Where he will send you. To suffer and burn. And scream and cry. Until the end of time. …. But he loves you. George Carlin ( 1937-2008 ) “There Is No God”,. Get every...
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burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
July | 2009 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2009/07
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: July 2009. July 15, 2009. Stutter briefly over glass. Beaded waters waning west. July 14, 2009. This house, if i return,. Will i still recall journeys. North in the fading light,. Waning spires and blanket towns. And the vast silken river,. Shimmering back at us,. The prairie-wide road,. The stud-lettered cinema,. And the humming tarmac,. Boiled-hamburger pink –. And the distant corner,. Around which lies Christmas. And bay window,.
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provost 88 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/provost-88-poem
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. December 13, 2010. As if through some forgotten fault. A rugged asbestos spire purports. Unappointedly above its urban parapet:. This is the inauspicious bishopric. That deconsecrated your wing. And disarmed your prayer. Internally, your landing gear regressed. And your wing-tips dimmed as gently. As the sundown of a pilot’s eye:. Dreaming elevators being lately unexercised. With inevitable time the creeping ivy awakens. Look – the provost 88. Enter y...
burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
October | 2009 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2009/10
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: October 2009. October 23, 2009. Train windows would appear to offer. A double-glazed derive for the goal-getter. Or time-limited, terminal, declining commuter. But no. because instead,. Bygoing england will embalm you like linen. And you’ll never pause to check your make-up. Until one day, somebody arrives to dig you up. Then, remarking upon your preservative sheen. They’ll leave little marks on the safety glass pane. October 18, 2009.
burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
December | 2009 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2009/12
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: December 2009. December 21, 2009. And its shooting gallery. With its blistered tiles. Snow-flecks on his eyelashes. And the roll-up poaching. Milkily in his skimmed complexion. Blog at WordPress.com. Blog at WordPress.com.
burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
December | 2010 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2010/12
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: December 2010. December 13, 2010. As if through some forgotten fault. A rugged asbestos spire purports. Unappointedly above its urban parapet:. This is the inauspicious bishopric. That deconsecrated your wing. And disarmed your prayer. Internally, your landing gear regressed. And your wing-tips dimmed as gently. As the sundown of a pilot’s eye:. Dreaming elevators being lately unexercised. With inevitable time the creeping ivy awakens.
burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
November | 2009 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2009/11
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: November 2009. In the bleak mid-table. November 21, 2009. Shovel back the gloom:. The sometime sodden shroud. Dusks the winter skyline. A huddle of stands. Shirk the prying Skerne:. Quakers versus Stags,. In the bleak mid-table. Gabbiadini glides and gleams. As an uninhibited stream. Cuts across a misty moorland and. The ball simply follows. November 16, 2009. In raucous turn of flight. Their squealing ancestors daub.
burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
January | 2010 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2010/01
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: January 2010. January 27, 2010. Upon your dead face. And we evacuate the city. January 4, 2010. 8211; like a prose poem. January 4, 2010. Also applies to money-grabbing bastards the world over. Rendered in frames per annum. Whose moment of impact. Corpus at the moment of damage. January 4, 2010. 8216;s intents and purposes. And how easily the “i”. Can be picked from. A card index,. As a creature,. Ripped, wrung, overdrawn.
burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
burslemisbohemia | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/author/burslemisbohemia
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. December 13, 2010. As if through some forgotten fault. A rugged asbestos spire purports. Unappointedly above its urban parapet:. This is the inauspicious bishopric. That deconsecrated your wing. And disarmed your prayer. Internally, your landing gear regressed. And your wing-tips dimmed as gently. As the sundown of a pilot’s eye:. Dreaming elevators being lately unexercised. With inevitable time the creeping ivy awakens. Look – the provost 88. Create ...
burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
February | 2010 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2010/02
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: February 2010. February 8, 2010. February 4, 2010. Passengers seen and unseeing:. We count the passing mill towns. Their spheres of ambered brick. In damp abacus streets. Then darkness itself replies. But for the lonely cab-glow. Of the southbound trucks. Searching for the next. Pale imitation of stars. February 4, 2010. The bay lies west. Her contours rise, lining. Mossy basket walls in the east. And we are cradled.
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found poetry | pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle
Pulling poetry from pages of prosaic piffle. The future has arrived. The commodity and emerging market booms. Are breaking in unison, leaving no more bubbles. Left to burst. Almost every corner of the world. Is now being drawn into the vortex of debt deflation. But it will not spare us a decade-long toil. Of pitiful growth or none at all. As we purge debt. The world stole prosperity. From the future for year after year,. With the full collusion of governments,. Regulators, and central banks. 8212; Mervyn...
foundpoetrycollage.blogspot.com
Found Poetry Collages by Mary Bast
Found Poetry Collages by Mary Bast. The literary equivalent of a collage, found poems refashion and reorder existing texts. Thursday, April 30, 2015. PoMoSco (Poetry Month Scouts). During National Poetry Month, April 2015, I was among 213 poets representing 43 states and 12 countries in The Found Poetry Review's. Poetry Month Scouts) ,. Working toward 30 found poetry merit badges. These aren't your childhood merit badges! Click on these posts to see my poem for each badge:. Haiku Anew: " Haiku Roku.
The Found Poetry Review
The Found Poetry Review. About the Found Poetry Review. Dog-Ear Poetry Contest (2013). The Found Poetry Project (2012). Read the New Issue Now. 2016 National Poetry Month Project. Read the Latest Updates. Read Our Latest Posts. August 9, 2016. Olio examines the way that we experience stories that become integral parts of our consciousness those intimately bound in the social fabric with which we surround ourselves. July 5, 2016. Book Review: Staying Alive. June 7, 2016.
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Found Polaroids – Short Stories Based on Found Polaroids
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