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Poetry Archive
Friday, January 11, 2008
The Strangest Knife
Every so often
I shed my shades,
lift my lids to the blinding lights--
for of all the ways
that my back has been stabbed,
hope was the strangest knife.
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Blog Archive
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2008
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February
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January
(56)
When Love Stopped Weighing Me Down
Another Tribute to the Death of Innocence
Returning Home, Wondering if you Feel the Same
Armchair
Love was a Cup of Coffee
Decisions
Ghosts
Banana-Handled Memory
Her Keeper
Ode to Spaghettios
Television
Dealing with Hard Times
Sorry Too Late
A Planet's Come Hither
Phase: "Boredom"
Habits Betray Me
Wedding-Night Jitters
Pretending it's Better
Happy Birthday
Bottle Immortalis
Fading
Sans Amputation
A Lesson in Denial
Trust Me
Poem for Lovers
Depression
Fair-feathered Friend
Brilliant
Rainbow
Drowning Heaven
First and Last Letter
Late and Tired
Chop-Block Dignity
Sleep in Indecision
Rough Night
Someone Else's Problem
Lost Loves
The Strangest Knife
Too Old to Cry
Climbing
Black on Black
Daydream
Beautiful
A Starlit Night
Gather the Shepherds
Since When do You Need a Vacation From Me?
How it Ended
Soccer Field
Such as I have
The Sun
Waking Up
White Elephant Love
Willow
Woken
Writing a Love Poem on the Way Home
For the Moment, I'd Rather Dream
About Me
Dan Kaschel
View my complete profile
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