<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rss xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:taxo="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/taxonomy/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" version="2.0">
  <channel>
    <title>Poetic License</title>
    <link>http://poeticlicense.gather.com</link>
    <description>Recent Articles on Gather by Poetic License</description>
    <language>en-us</language>
    <copyright>Copyright Gather Inc 2009</copyright>
    <pubDate>Wed, 30 Dec 2009 02:56:16 GMT</pubDate>
    <dc:date>2009-12-30T02:56:16Z</dc:date>
    <dc:language>en-us</dc:language>
    <dc:rights>Copyright Gather Inc 2009</dc:rights>
    <image>
      <title>Gather.com</title>
      <url>http://www.gather.com/images/header/logo_gather.gif</url>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/</link>
    </image>
    <item>
      <title>Letters, not for her</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967967&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
 
  Letters, not for her  
 
 
 (To Sunil's mother) 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 Postman brings three letters, none for her. 
 Ten minutes of patient wait till she 
 opens the door; her dog barks mutely.  . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Wed, 30 Dec 2009 01:23:00 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967967&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Kushal Poddar</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-30T01:23:00Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Drums Of Love</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967936&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>     
 
 
    Drums of Love      
 
 
     
 
 
  The plain field turns down a clear path to exaltation,  
 
 
  Countless time we spent mesmerizing inside twilight.  
 
 
  I imagine . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Wed, 30 Dec 2009 00:53:01 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967936&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Rony J.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-30T00:53:01Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Temptation</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967731&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
   
   
 For those who live alone 
 Especially at holiday time 
 There is a temptation 
 To write sad verses about loneliness 
 But that is really stupid 
 Not because they are not . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 21:47:15 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967731&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T21:47:15Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Attention! Extended Deadline for Entries in the Dream Quest One Poetry &amp; Writing Contest</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967628&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>The Dream Quest One Poetry &amp; Writing Contest  is open to anyone who loves expressing innermost thoughts and feelings into the beautiful art of poetry or writing a short story that is worth telling . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 20:21:14 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967628&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Andre W.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T20:21:14Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>SEAMUS &amp; FINN.</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967533&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>They’re not to be trusted, Moaned Seamus. Who? Asked Finn, lifting his eyes From his glass to the bar, Where two young women Sat, their legs showing from The thighs down. Women, Seamus said, . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 19:09:32 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967533&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Terry Collett</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T19:09:32Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Story of My Heart</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967505&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>Back then in my restless nights 
 When I whispered to my ears and scratched my eyes 
 Wishing for an angel to walk by.... 
 The pillows would caress my lonely arms 
 And the cold wind would play its freezing . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 18:54:19 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967505&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Noble Chinwendu</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T18:54:19Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>A poem of being alone...</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967340&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>Mine are the only 
 footsteps in the snow. 
   
 Cuz I'm the only one 
 who goes 
 the places that I go. 
   
 copyright 2009 by Amy "Gwen" Kline</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 16:51:52 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967340&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Gwen K</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T16:51:52Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Toxic</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967263&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>Your poison seeps into me 
 Organs shut down, 
 as the bittersweet concoction 
 takes hold. 
 I should have escaped 
 when the door was open. 
 Now I’m stuck 
 in a windowless room. 
 with no way . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 15:54:22 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967263&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Cheryl W.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T15:54:22Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Descending Notes</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967021&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
   
   
 
 Descending Notes 
 
   
   
 
 The hidden place - 
 
 
 Where I lick cinnamon, 
 
 
 White hot darkness, 
 
 
 Un-gated. 
 
   
 
 Gated.  Juggle my life . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 12:34:33 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977967021&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Barbary Chaapel</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T12:34:33Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Bard Speaks</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966543&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>The Bard Speaks 
   
 As the winter closed in 
 And the people gathered around the harth 
 The Bard rose to speak 
   
 “If we had the ears to hear to hear 
 What stories would the . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 05:11:07 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966543&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T05:11:07Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>If I Could Capture Time</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966473&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>If I could capture time, 
 it would be of the moments 
 I have spent with you. 
 Our bodies would never age; 
 Our bodies would never go frail. 
 I can feel time creeping up on us 
 like a thief in the . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 04:15:57 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966473&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Cheryl W.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T04:15:57Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Rising from the Ashes, Rebirth</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966378&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>Quite a few moons have passed Not a night passes without shivering Fears, out of loss Blinding walking along Waiting for time to expire 
 A crack The smell of ozone A fire begins anew Its brings the birthing . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 02:04:27 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966378&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Lindsay Renée Camilla G.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T02:04:27Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Holiday rains on you</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966321&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
 
  Holiday    rains on a reserve forest  
 
 
  
 
  
 
 A winter rain passes; I pick up a deer 
 with a broken glass curse cast under its feet. 
 The rivulets of muddy blessings run as 
 I coax, . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 01:01:01 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966321&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Kushal Poddar</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T01:01:01Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>He’s Gone</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966304&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>The snow had stopped falling 
 And as the Bard walked along the path 
 He noticed something, 
 A wax wood staff and a begging bowl 
   
 He picked them up 
 And tenderly brushed the snow away . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Dec 2009 00:44:33 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966304&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-29T00:44:33Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Hay-Ku of the Day (Happiness Itself)</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966224&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>Lose interest in Thought and you are Free to Be Happiness Itself. 
 [Rich Note: Alternatives to the third line of today’s offering include: Eternally Now, Everlasting Joy, Everlasting Life, Everlasting . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 23:33:47 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966224&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Richard Hay</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-28T23:33:47Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Brass Angel: (Attempt at Pre Sim poem for Elsie Duggan and John Walter)</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966159&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>Brass angel, crystal water, fountain scrape 
 Recalled memory, nineteen fifty three 
 On wings we drove broken roads to heaven 
 Tornado warning from the radio 
 Nineteen fifty four hopes in darkened . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 22:38:55 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977966159&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>William  Dotani</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-28T22:38:55Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Stag</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977965961&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
   
                           The Stag  
 
 
   
 
 
 Most powerful . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 19:57:45 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977965961&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Mike Ellwood</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-28T19:57:45Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>True Love</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977965938&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>I was lost 
 in a sea of confusion; 
 I was sinking, 
 tossed by the storm; 
 But something inside 
 wouldn’t let me give up... 
 Something inside 
 told me to stay strong.... 
 Something inside . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 19:24:15 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977965938&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Cheryl W.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-28T19:24:15Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Summoning Bell</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977965779&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
 The Old Monk plodded along through the snow storm 
 His only possessions the begging bowl 
 Symbolizing his total dependence on God 
 The wax wood staff symbolizing 
 The strength of his Faith . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 17:24:19 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977965779&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-28T17:24:19Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>SPIED.</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977965368&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>How was it for you? Uncle asked, lying Slumped across Auntie, Some small-beached Whale, his voice escaping His lungs as would air From a punctured tyre.  
 
 
  Fine, it was fine, Auntie Sighed, her . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 09:24:39 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977965368&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Terry Collett</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-28T09:24:39Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Wisdom, Dear</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977921889&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>Wisdom, 
 Creeping vision, 
 That comes clear, 
 Knowledge gained, 
 Pain, sometimes dear.</description>
      <pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 03:47:12 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977921889&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Ron (in complete sheeple overload) W.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-28T03:47:12Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>A room with the changing hues</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964993&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
 
  a room with the changing hues  
 
 
  
 
  
 
 Dry leaves, now golden, toss and turn on 
 the midday’s tin roof. A confident 
 pigeon plays with the neighborhood cat. 
   
 These . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 01:08:32 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964993&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Kushal Poddar</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-28T01:08:32Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Grail</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964927&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
   
 Since first brought to the Isle of the Mighty* 
 By Joseph the tin merchant 
   
 Enshrined in a tiny chapel of sticks and mud 
 Only to be lost and found and lost again 
   . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Sun, 27 Dec 2009 23:49:37 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964927&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-27T23:49:37Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>How Many More?</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964526&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
   
 As the Old Monk walked the highways 
 And byways of the towns and villages 
 Seeing the Christmas lights and hearing the carols 
 The question crossed his mind unbidden 
 “How . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Sun, 27 Dec 2009 16:40:32 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964526&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-27T16:40:32Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>This One Last Time( repost another cowboy poem)</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964362&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
   
 He sat straight and tall in the saddle 
 As he had for sixty years 
 But now the pain in his belly 
 Filled his eyes with tears. 
   
 He topped the ridge and looked down 
 . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Sun, 27 Dec 2009 13:21:20 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964362&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-27T13:21:20Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>In Remembrance</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964121&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>A cold, snowy December night Flakes falling from the sky Just a normal night Following an enjoyable day 
 Visiting my nonna Moved in two doors down from mine Helping her settle in Moving and organizing . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Sun, 27 Dec 2009 04:29:17 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964121&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Lindsay Renée Camilla G.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-27T04:29:17Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>The Bucking Horse (a repost)</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964104&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>Once there was a bucking horse 
 
 
 That they said no man could ride. 
 
 
 He was big and strong and his eyes were keen. 
 
 
 He was the color of rawhide. 
 
 
 
 
 The bareback riders . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Sun, 27 Dec 2009 04:05:31 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964104&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-27T04:05:31Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Beautiful Words</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964095&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>      
 
 
         
 
 
    Beautiful Words    
 
 
     
 
 
  Love always struck a cord  
 
 
  Between me and our intimates desire  
 
 
  All my life I only needed you,  
 
 . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Sun, 27 Dec 2009 03:54:38 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977964095&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>Rony J.</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-27T03:54:38Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Memorable Saturday Afternoon</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977963843&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
   
 In a rainstorm that seemed to whisper 
 “Build and Arc” 
   
 With food shopping that demanded to be done 
 I hate shopping 
   
 With a back aggravated by . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Sat, 26 Dec 2009 21:42:04 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977963843&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-26T21:42:04Z</dc:date>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>Drought</title>
      <link>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977963568&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</link>
      <description>  
   
 There are droughts when the rain is withheld 
 And people, animals and plants wither 
 And grow weak and some pray for death 
   
 Yet there is another kind of drought, a drought . . .</description>
      <pubDate>Sat, 26 Dec 2009 15:08:10 GMT</pubDate>
      <guid>http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977963568&amp;grpId=3659174697245736&amp;nav=Groupspace</guid>
      <dc:creator>John Doyle</dc:creator>
      <dc:date>2009-12-26T15:08:10Z</dc:date>
    </item>
  </channel>
</rss>

