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as i gazed at desert sunset, i saw madness staring back at me from the distant horizon. naked fear set in. fear that i would lose awareness of my self, that i would forget who i am. then, breathing a sigh of relief, i relaxed in acknowledgment that it does not matter. © 2025 Bruno…
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the other day i mentioned that next year i plan to hike the 800-mile Arizona trail, from Utah to Mexico, resulting in barely suppressed laughter eyes rolling like marbles, and silly gestures. people say it’s crazy to put boots on and hike every day not sure of where (or if) i will sleep that night.…
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brave bonehead bailey boldly beckoned bashful big-boned becky benderbust briefly becoming besties before brusque bitter breakup because bonehead bailey buttered bread beside busty betsy boondocks behind ben bartlett’s brown barn © 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge Day 33/365
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small enough to rest in my palm, yet it casts light across great distances. the crystal in the garden, on its pedestal of ordinary stone, at night becomes the universe, galaxies shimmering in every facet. at dawn, it stretches long shadows, black as velvet. by day, it is a prism, splitting light into rainbows.…
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this morning poet’s sleeping heart groggily uninspired not sickly dead or dying taking a rest day © 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 31/365
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As I pen these thoughts, is the weight of history shifting like the swaying of the pines? If time is a construct, an invention of my mind, attempting to grasp the meaning of nothing and infinity, can a new experience point backward in time, giving fresh meaning to a past event, like sunrise illuminating…
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like pink cotton puffs on pale blue placemats clouds drift lazily over the hillside. cock crows and, full of promise, a new day begins © 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 29/365.
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eerie drone drifts through fog shrouded heather frugal Dougal blowing highland pipes (wonder whats under his kilt) giraffes in pink lingerie know queen Victorias secret hints of Coco’s chanel mingle with sparkling wine corks pop fireworks stop smooth skinned super mods super bods swish sway sashay down Milanese runway pushing products no one needs and…
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Hey there. Listen up, everyone, Life’s a roaring river, class-five rapids— twisting, turning, churning, unpredictable— like syncopation in a jazz riff. Around each bend, a new scene, flashes of color, explosions of light! We are not just shadows on a blank canvas; we are bold brushstrokes. Each note a different vibe, a jam session of…
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After the divorce, he began navigating a new landscape, focusing on self-growth, embracing a frugal life. One rainy day, he discovered the book on the discount shelf of a thrift shop, cover faded yet inviting, a beacon of hope for self-discovery. A fictional classic, brimming with promises of adventure and wisdom. He added it…
Desert Dweller 