how sad,
assorted June
swept by old hack July
done under quite well by August
brute Fall.
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how sad,
assorted June
swept by old hack July
done under quite well by August
brute Fall.
Brute Fall,
colorful suit
of tawny hues, hidden
in the hawthorn and juniper
your blues
your blues
underlie the
reds that pepper me, and
together we combine into
purple
purple
blood under skin
you gather me in your
rich dark intent, swirl me like wine,
savor
savour
this swirling taste,
let it build under your
tongue and take you to far-distant
places
places
to go, people
to see, blackbird singing
in the old oak tree; remember
me, love
me, love?
let me laugh please.
because when i do love,
i know i will receive it back,
broken.
broken
by sleeplessness
I sort through the debris
of attempted dreams, for this short
poem
poem
in shards, shattered,
the words fell apart, spilt,
unhinged by punctuation or
grammar
grammar
evil disguised
as a sweet old lady
underneath the sugar and spice
a wolf
a wolf
shivering, grey,
nose pointed to the snow,
gauging the coming storm, knowing
its fury.
its fury
wrapped around calm,
hurricane, a blind dog
sniffing over the warm ocean
howling
howling
fills the empty
northern prairie, inserts
itself in the crevices of
silence
silence
lurks all around
everybody is quiet
am i in a cemetery
or hell!
or Hell?
instead of love?
it sounds like a good deal
'cause when i love, i might as well
be there.
be there
on time and see
that you don't forget your
air ticket lest you want to miss
the flight
the flight
may be short, but
the view will be so
unforgettable as to cause
great gasps
great gasps
great sentiments
great are the ways of love
great are the aspirations of
lovers
lovers
come together
when the silv'ry moon slips
behind the indigo shadows
of night
of night
I think as it
draws nearer and dense
sleep fled from eyes, no chance of dreams
sweet dreams!
sweet dreams
of tomorrow
winging away on white
clouds of hope and faith, never to
come true
come true
come false but the
truth will always prevail
true dreams will impart meaning to
future
future
dreams are only
imaginings, distant
pasts forever recycled and
reborn
reborn
in sleep's dark womb
dreams come to brighten your
days, your hopes, aspirations and
wishes
Wishes
are like fishes,
or so a wise man said.
What does that mean? There's lots? Got fins?
They swim?
They swim
as they cannot
walk on earth; fishes are
like wishes served with tartar sauce
on moon!
on moon
and stars and far
galaxies, i pledge to
love you for all eternity
and more
and more.
i can give you
not just love in my heart
but loyalty steadfast and true
Honest.
Honest,
the path to joy
is disclosure, secrets
are pauses, the eye's light flickers,
dark forms
dark forms
resolve, define
themselves in memory.
malevolent towers of past
evil.
evil
in the hands of
madmen, an awful mix
that threatens us with unprepared
endings
ending
last and worse part
of every good friendship
everyone hates but everyone
goes through.
goes through
the door, banging
words thrown in hurt, anger
regrets, oh, I have had a few...
sorry...
sorry
for the big mess
i know i should've been
more careful with the hot pink paint
oopsy
oopsy!
Did I do that?
Excuse me, please, kind Sir!
Next time I will leave a big sign:
Wet Paint...
Wet Paint
palms of green, blue,
red, yellow.... leaving prints
on the walls, floors, everywhere but
paper
paper
empty, waiting
for the labored musings
of sweaty students longing for
release
release
a cloud of doves,
or butterflies perhaps,
anything that filters dreams to
real stuff
real stuff,
an impulse cloud
figured in, emptiness
vital to players we dress to
shine grey
shine grey
any color
touched by your eyes and smile
bursts like fireworks against the sky
explode