Posts
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My Death Bed
I fear that after I have clocked out my last time
and rest my sunken eyes and watch the colors fade;
that it is not Gabriel greeting me at heavens golden gates;
but the frost that devours my soul and chains my body down -
His Death Bed
If you swore to me as you swore to God
that you would never die; and you would live
until the earth shattered and bestowed seven
millennia of bad luck unto the next civilization; -
Ode to a Woman
It’s hard to identify what makes her different from the rest.
It could be the delightful warmth of her skin
mixed with the vanilla scent that gently stains her raiment.
Built like the clouds painted by Monet; -
Where I Find Peace
In my catacombs of tragedies and comedies alike,
my preference is the nook in the section from when I was innocent.
As I’ve aged and matured the number of books has gradually -
Memory to canvas
I wonder if that’s how Picasso really saw himself.
Deconstructed shapes and primary colors,
All meticulously placed in their seemingly correct
Spaces on that subliminal canvas.
I wonder if when he looked in the mirror, -
Ode to the Wind
When I awake for the second time
the window tremors at the slightest
touch of the wind. I notice it never falters
despite moving along each season.
It hoists piles of leaves in suburban yards
Loves
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A Trapped Poet (inspired by Emily Dickinson)
I am just like her—
Trapped in a sea of white.
My mind is just as frayed—
My heart just as sliced.
By the glittering blades
That contrived all her words.
The letters of her thoughts,
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My lovely ex
I walk through the graveyard, carefully avoiding the flowers on the graves. It’s a yearly trip to keep up appearances. I hated coming here. I sigh stopping at the grave marked William Piller.
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Don‘t you wonder how they all were you?
See, the sea is crawling, over these mountain tips far west
and when I go away, to it
I see fiddling with my old hat
playing with the worn out shoes
with all the past faces, lying spread out on the ground -
I seek beauty, peace and happiness
Warming the skin,
Sun you sicken me
As with every loving branch of light you extend to me
Reminded am I of the warm love we once had
Together and close
Pure,
Naive? -
loneliness
savor companionship,
for if it gets lost in a foreign sea,
the world turns gray,
dark and bleak.savor companionship,
for if it gets frozen in time,
the world might catch on fire,
and the pain won’t subside. -
Waning Moon, Fleeing Soul
The moon is waning,
slipping away into the night,much like my mind.
As I run over boulders and logs and grass and hills and trees and rivers and —