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1794

name -

email -

5/8/2011 12:17:44 AM

comment -

all blurred out bitch, i can't see yeah.



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1793

name - c

email -

4/24/2011 11:55:14 AM

comment -

we are here. in some ways, we never left...



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1792

name - Melanie

email -

6/21/2010 12:00:04 PM

comment -

enjoyed reading your work.It has been a long time. Amber told me where to find you. Congrats on the marriage and baby.



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1791

name - ak

email -

11/2/2009 11:12:01 AM

comment -

Apparently I died in Texas.



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1790

name - ak

email -

9/1/2009 12:20:48 AM

comment -

welcome to being 30 (foe me) . fuck this shit sucks.



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1789

name - chris

email -

8/4/2009 5:23:03 PM

comment -

this is the real world, muchachos, and we are all in it...



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1788

name - amber kiker

email -

6/29/2009 3:58:06 PM

comment -

is about to have a tantrum.



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1787

name -

email -

5/26/2009 5:34:31 PM

comment -

We were dogwood.


slipping through the forest we were light, we were contentment
we were little ants crawling over giant sequoias
counting rings, running fingers across scars...sizing up the general, sizing up ouselves.
racing down the highway, we were unstoppable.
our ears turned into engines,our bodies like meat and metal.
travelling at the speed of big balls.
by the water fall we were liquid.
nothing hard. no scars. no meat. no rings.
Children re-born in the bridal mist.

of all these things we were dogwood the most.
in dogwoood we will remain.
silent among giants.



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1786

name - harvey

email -

5/8/2009 1:19:41 AM

comment -

I thought some where I would understand my father. I remember certain moments, perhaps him and I at Gas Works in Seattle and he said after his father died- my grandfather died.

“It would be good if we could just learn all this shit and somehow give it to our kids.”

We do learn it, we want to learn it. His ilk seeped into my skin like a tattoo I would wear all my life. My father was young and didn’t posses the skills I have.

It took years to understand this




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1785

name -

email -

4/1/2009 2:25:24 AM

comment -


"The World At Large"

Ice-age heat wave, can't complain.
If the world's at large, why should I remain?
Walked away to another plan.
Gonna find another place, maybe one I can stand.
I move on to another day,
to a whole new town with a whole new way.
Went to the porch to have a thought.
Got to the door and again, I couldn't stop.
You don't know where and you don't know when.
But you still got your words and you got your friends.
Walk along to another day.
Work a little harder, work another way.

Well uh-uh baby I ain't got no plan.
We'll float on maybe would you understand?
Gonna float on maybe would you understand?
Well float on maybe would you understand?

The days get shorter and the nights get cold.
I like the autumn but this place is getting old.
I pack up my belongings and I head for the coast.
It might not be a lot but I feel like I'm making the most.
The days get longer and the nights smell green.
I guess it's not surprising but it's spring and I should leave.

I like songs about drifters - books about the same.
They both seem to make me feel a little less insane.
Walked on off to another spot.
I still haven't gotten anywhere that I want.
Did I want love? Did I need to know?
Why does it always feel like I'm caught in an undertow?

The moths beat themselves to death against the lights.
Adding their breeze to the summer nights.
Outside, water like air was great.
I didn't know what I had that day.
Walk a little farther to another plan.
You said that you did, but you didn't understand.

I know that starting over is not what life's about.
But my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud.



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1784

name -

email -

3/28/2009 12:25:42 PM

comment -

speakin' of movies...somebody just finished a screenplay. took a whole year to write. now thats its finished and i have gone back to read it again....my suspicions have been confirmed, there is weirdness going on upstairs...north of south.
anybody friends with mickey rourke?



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1783

name - Love the weakerthans

email -

3/18/2009 11:54:35 AM

comment -

My city's still breathing (but barely it's true)
through buildings gone missing like teeth.
The sidewalks are watching me think about you,
sparkled with broken glass.
I'm back with scars to show.
Back with the streets I know
Will never take me anywhere but here.
The stain in the carpet, this drink in my hand,
the strangers whose faces I know.
We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say " I wanted it this way"
Wait for the year to drown.
Spring forward, fall back down.
I'm trying not to wonder where you are.
All this time lingers, undefined.
Someone choose who's left and who's leaving.
Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me:
a blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest,
the best parts of Lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires,
new words for old desires,
and every birthday card I threw away.
I wait in 4/4 time.
Count yellow highway lines that you're relying on to lead you home.



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1782

name - thank you democrats

email -

3/17/2009 6:24:04 PM

comment -

"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom. What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else. When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."
~~~ The late Dr. Adrian Rogers, 1931 to 2005



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1781

name - ak

email -

2/7/2009 11:03:15 AM

comment -

and the answer is no.
no scruples.
isn't that why.



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1780

name - ak

email -

2/7/2009 11:01:04 AM

comment -

I myself thought it was pretty important to wade through the darkness that we create.





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1779

name - chris

email -

1/21/2009 9:53:34 PM

comment -

sling that shit motherfucker



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1778

name - ak

email -

10/19/2008 8:04:03 PM

comment -

powder from the steering wheel........







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1777

name - kim

email -

7/27/2008 11:27:19 PM

comment -

my husband is combatting mortals. the stacatto blasts of techno-firearms take a toll on us peace-loving-folksters so i have just purchased, for james' upcoming 34th birthday, a pair of wireless headphones for the television so that Angus the Avocado Tree (named with alliteration by poetic kindergarteners) and i might continue to live in our peaceful, pacifist bliss. sounds, you know, alter the cells of living things. it's a proven fact.



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1776

name - chris

email -

6/22/2008 10:27:35 PM

comment -

i nearly lost you, wm. good to have you back.



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1775

name - kim

email -

5/18/2008 11:28:06 PM

comment -

wow, james. sometimes your poetic voice can shine through. i love you too, as something new.



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1774

name - james

email -

5/18/2008 11:24:55 PM

comment -

Happy birthday, Kim, my love, my wife. I see you standing amidst the spruce and realize how small you are and yet how big we are. Nature's incense of mud and beach grass drying out after a long winter's hardness seep into my nostrils as the essence of something worth waiting for - like you. My heart grows soft with my own humility, with your falibility, and with the grace of forgiveness. I love you.



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1773

name - c

email -

4/11/2008 4:17:03 PM

comment -

wrldmrine and cockroaches. together forever...



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1772

name - ak

email -

4/7/2008 2:02:53 PM

comment -

whoa. Its still here.



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1771

name - john mccain for president

email - donate today

2/27/2008 4:04:21 AM

comment -

www.johnmccain.com





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1770

name -

email -

2/3/2008 1:09:49 AM

comment -

This morning all I wanted to do was walk upon the snow. It is weird walking into these new rooms so bright. The cancer cut out of my face, my smile rebuilt.
Parts of me being cut away and thrown to the wolves, being made whole again and anew in different ways. Dreaming again.
Being here and in love in Alaska is like looking up into the sky at night. I think about chris coming here, and fishing in the rivers I wonder if he will what I see, its enormity. Miles and miles of something different than our interpretation and perspective. The snow that keeps coming the sun that doest stop the people awake interacting with the connectivity that I always imagined people should have.
Like a child.




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