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	<title>the poetry knook :: the poetry of stephen m. james :: indianapolis, indiana &#187; pain</title>
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	<description>the poetry of stephen m. james</description>
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		<title>I was mistaken (or that pain was post-orgasmic marriage glue)</title>
		<link>http://www.tpkpoetry.com/poetry/i-was-mistaken/</link>
		<comments>http://www.tpkpoetry.com/poetry/i-was-mistaken/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 16 Oct 2007 02:10:09 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stephen M. James]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Post College]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[busy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[discouraged]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[distrustful]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[longing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[misunderstood]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pain]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Oh, to be a rational Epicurist! A sun spotless mind-cleaner (than) a Pope for one more franchise will burn my body by a Steak, &#8216;n Shake a SRI index fund&#8217;s pointy finger, at my 401-Kilo-calories it reads on the fast food prospectus&#8211;just &#8217;cause a prophet didn&#8217;t write it doesn&#8217;t mean it&#8217;s untrue, Mo&#8217; and mo&#8217; [&#8230;]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Oh, to be a rational Epicurist! A sun spotless mind-cleaner (than)<br />
a Pope for one more franchise will burn my body by a Steak, &#8216;n<br />
Shake a SRI index fund&#8217;s pointy finger, at my 401-Kilo-calories<br />
it reads on the fast food prospectus&#8211;just &#8217;cause a prophet didn&#8217;t write it<br />
doesn&#8217;t mean it&#8217;s untrue, Mo&#8217; and mo&#8217; years, the more I choose<br />
beside my Jesus burger, I need more media, more YouTube<br />
feeding tube is not enough!&#8211;need mail on phone, music on TV,<br />
hybrid corn, a fructose I.V., a fourth meal of midnight tacos<br />
drive-thru lines of closed eyes show ads on clothes and signs,<br />
other&#8217;s behinds walking right to left, left to right&#8211;usness: the risk<br />
worth taking this half field of nerves and flipping coins to kick<br />
or be kicked on the other cheek bones protected by dead bolts,<br />
car doors, live wires, meds, and noise canceling headphones ring<br />
interrupting disrupting sighs: our stones, diarrhea, and UTI&#8217;s.</p>
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		<item>
		<title>You&#8217;ve stopped up my pen</title>
		<link>http://www.tpkpoetry.com/poetry/youve-stopped-up-my-pen/</link>
		<comments>http://www.tpkpoetry.com/poetry/youve-stopped-up-my-pen/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stephen M. James]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Post College]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[anger]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[creative_writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[curiosity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[engagement]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[girlfriend]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[goodnight]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[hobby]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[marriage]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[million_pieces]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pain]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[puzzle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[revelation]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[wife]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[writing]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[my well, my pad, you&#8217;ve stopped up my pen, for I scribe on you every night, pinning my anger to the ground, you hold fast my million pieces, my puzzle, curiosity arousing me over and over the horizon of this sparrow&#8217;s eye, my perfect, my storm, I am wall-eyed and hooked wallowing in the night [&#8230;]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>my well, my pad, you&#8217;ve stopped up my pen, for I scribe on you every night,<br />
pinning my anger to the ground, you hold fast</p>
<p>my million pieces, my puzzle, curiosity arousing me over and over<br />
the horizon of this sparrow&#8217;s eye,</p>
<p>my perfect, my storm, I am wall-eyed and hooked wallowing<br />
in the night so young an infant, the day still suckles with</p>
<p>my revelation, my special&#8211;burned into, an image, cloth<br />
buried in a broken body</p>
<p>my mouthwash, my goodnight, I may never brush my teeth,<br />
and gum your neck at thirty,</p>
<p>my lion, my lamb, doodles on the page became your name,<br />
the softest thorns of the vineyard snag my skin,</p>
<p>my friend, my lover, your experiences, story, and knowledge<br />
poured over an altar for me.<br />
and all you get is I<br />
will love you more than knowledge,<br />
more permanently, more pertinently than life,<br />
for life, for you.</p>
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		<title>Another helping of rain</title>
		<link>http://www.tpkpoetry.com/poetry/another-helping-of-rain/</link>
		<comments>http://www.tpkpoetry.com/poetry/another-helping-of-rain/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stephen M. James]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[College]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[intimately]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[nature]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pain]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pendulum]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[rain]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[twilight]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Can&#8217;t help hoping for another helping of rain narrated by thunder and barn&#8217;s bang as hues transform twilight and night slowly covering a saturated sun setting behind dark clouds hovering, swinging the spectrum on a pendulum that humidies hang tragically, intimately close to my heart&#8217;s pain.]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Can&#8217;t help hoping for another helping of rain<br />
narrated by thunder and barn&#8217;s bang<br />
as hues transform twilight and night slowly covering<br />
a saturated sun setting behind dark clouds hovering,<br />
swinging the spectrum on a pendulum that humidies hang<br />
tragically, intimately close to my heart&#8217;s pain.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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