Category: 54 @ 27
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Convocatio • from 54 poems at 27
come to the borders outside your town come pilots and forders come naked or in a gown come to the borders springtime and frost not all we who wander are counted with the lost meet me at the inn of the borderland where travel’s the only cost tear your leash asunder your chains be tempest…
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The Thing About Growing Old… • from 54 poems at 27
four gloves I’ve lost in New York City I missed their warm enclosures. One I received in tandem with thirteen three-piece suits my sister-in-law gave it — all she had to give — Though warmest, I lost it on the wettest December night walking to the train new guitar in tow in the New York…
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![Burdens [song] • from 54 poems at 27](https://lanceschaubert.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/2904759616_2b1006c26d_b-672x372.jpg)
Burdens [song] • from 54 poems at 27
written originally during Lent for The Calendar Years C maj7 C7 We set down indulgence Fmaj7 Fm7 and pray for your restraint Em7 A7 We give up our taking Dm7 G7 and take away complaint Cmaj7 I need less violence C7 Need less slander Fmaj7 Fm7 C need less of what I hate I hand you…
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Assorted Thoughts • from 54 poems at 27
Nested bowls work if you stack carefully. If not, they lean. Contractors in 1173 were likely rushed through a soup luncheon in that Pisa basement. My friend has an acrylic sweater that changes color and shape every day, namely because every morning he chooses a different brush and palate to paint it on. I once encountered…
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![A Strong Right [song] • from 54 poems at 27](https://lanceschaubert.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/6946196181_f70d7660f1_k-672x372.jpg)
A Strong Right [song] • from 54 poems at 27
lyrics by Robert Burns arrangement by Lancelot Schaubert Note: To be sung with each verse given to a different man and all in unison at the chorus. In the spirit of an Irish drinking song. C The man, in life wherever plac’d, F …
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Be Attitude • from 54 poems at 27
Of the rich who play at art in their rich retired homes Of the powerful who play at peace in what are pre-war times Of the healthy men who quote trite anecdotes to sick Of the presidents whose precedent is kindness-killed-by-Dick Of the sober in the streets who’ve never bought a drink whose pride is…
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Proficy • from the 54 poems at 27
I am the unhirable. I am those who fit between one job report and the other, the taxes upon the poor that feed into Congress who feed into corporations that feed into the pockets of rich C.E.O.s I am chicken feed I guess. I am the student loaned out to banks for a time, times,…
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The 54 Poems I Wrote at 27 …ish
After much deliberation, I decided to keep the whole tradition of doubling my age and writing that many poems in a year. You’ll notice that April Thirtyish has already passed, so I’m late in posting. I’ve gotten about half of them written and will begin posting this week. I started this whole mess with 46…
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Notes from Heschel: The Architecture of Time • from 54 poems at 27
Techno-civilization / breaks existence – time for space – / more objective(s), more to place. / Having more ain’t being more, / might of space still dies at time’s / borders. Existence beats its / heart not in spaces, but times.
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For the Love of God • 54 poems at 27
Could we with ink the ocean fill // Oh, God I know how we have tried // where pipe has burst below the Gulf // or man poured into it his pride