Why I Write Too

By: R.H. Nicholson      It is probably not possible for someone to devote a persistent part of his life to writing without contemplating his reasons. Perhaps it started with George…

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Classic Poetry

The Surrealist Takes a Shave (For Sylvia Plath) The blade scrapes Reddened skin Sharp and stiff. It courses ‘round The nape of my nose, Across my cheek, And down my…

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A Sample of Poems

The Last Day of Innocence She snuggles Her nose in my arm To affirm my stature As the center of her universe Do I want some sassafras tea? Or a…

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