Latest Posts
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The Attributes of Silence
by Michael Plante In the city of lakesa raven sitslistening to misguided people.The early morning dew glistens by the rays of the sun“Go away”, the raven grunks,“Go away”. Verbal litter echo the forestwhere silence is vital to success.Words softly spokenbarely… Continue reading
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Clouds Rest
by Michael Plante I’m an old man in a roomreminiscing in memories;the cheap cracked floral wallpaperand the smell of old peopleis certainly a reality I could do without. It is not death I wait forit is the warm summer windfrom… Continue reading
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The Trickle-Down Effect
by Michael Plante You can do anything.You are only limited by your own restrictions. Inhibitions disappear when the first step is taken. Confidence arrives and the incurred momentum forces you towards desired results. Once accomplished, a sense of pride is… Continue reading
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Happy Canada Day
by Michael Plante HAPPY CANADA DAY! What Real Freedom Is You’re not likely to walk into someone’s home and call it shit just because it doesn’t meet your standards. More than likely you’ll just get up and leave. So don’t… Continue reading
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The Will
by Michael Plante I will not step on flowersor beg the sun to come out on a cloudy day.I shall walk the path through the forestwhere no one has traveled before.If I shall be blinded by the darknessmy path will… Continue reading
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Happy Father’s Day Mom
by Michael Plante It couldn’t have been an easy choice walking away from your wife and children. To drown your memories in alcohol every night while the family you left behind struggled to put food on the table. But it’s… Continue reading
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Star Dust To Roses
by Michael Plante She sleeps in metaphors of dying lightblind to the colours that forces the night.Dreaming of my arrival she awaitsas metaphors fall from the evening sky.Like shooting stars they disappearinto oblivion where lovers transform themfrom star dust to… Continue reading
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Canadian Ice
by Michael Plante There is an old tin shed in the woodsits rustic characteristics give it poise and wonderdistinguishing notables’ hang upon the wallsyesteryears’ crafted tools.Our forefather’s pride displayed honorably. Thin saplings line the countrysidemoonlit walk through crunching snowskates tied… Continue reading
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Running With Scissors
by Michael Plante I can’t pretend everything is well.I won’t tell you my problems.Instead I’ll run with scissorsthrough a field of tall grassthat hide the stones that trip people.Maybe I’ll impale myselflike mother always said I would. Continue reading
