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gotime49
I wonder if she hears me I wonder if she hears me when I whisper to the moon… When I whisper, I love you Each night… I had No choice but to love her To waste my romantic pith on her To flow under her shimmering waters in our moonlight Sad souls For whom no one waits No one waits for me Someone? Not too soon From now Another shall arrive And inspire With song And verse A tempest of truth February 8th, 2022
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Feb 9, 2022
Feb 9, 2022 at 9:15 AM UTC
Tempest
Flâneurs abound The tragedy of low expectations Was described To me As the most uptight surfer you ever met Greeting me like age hurdles She was a black hole of logic and responsibility My life with no mirrors... Exes had limited vision Too stubborn and prideful to admit their freefalls of poor judgement My freefall *** sum me da Heretics and Town Cryers in the market square Mephisto's embrace of Lidocaine and Cortisone I can no longer skydance to impress A scoundrel, my ***** culprit remains reality-resistant Like ***** on the Polar Bear rug Incoherent verses of "Dog and Cat God and Oil Signet and Spice Partners and Paramours" The incidental joy of life Randomly convenient distance from our Sun Burning her kelvin heat to charm our World Venerated Dreaming in fireworks I write her in great detail, She answers me with tempered dictation… Sun distance Earth Enough to burst with anemones as blue as Barbercide This distance Struggling like a butterfly in a rainstorm February 1, 2022
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Feb 8, 2022
Feb 8, 2022 at 6:43 PM UTC
Rainstorm Butterfly
Mother My loving arms reach across the World Mother of Gods Mother of All The World weeps as you suffer Hold tight To Love and Hope Grace is falling More bodies Than wood Save Suttee Of all Castes Pyre plumes Plead Param Om Shanti Sadgati for each Ganesha and Vishnu Weep openly From grievous Himalayan Skies Tragedy's tears Dredge timeless Life and death Forever Bharata Your suffering Is the suffering Of the great globe Moksha! Suffering shall deliver You Mother India गाड विलिंग May 2, 2021
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May 2, 2021
May 2, 2021 at 2:51 PM UTC
Moksha
I glare intensely  into the pores  of the granite walls  inside my eyelids Primitive pain Suffering universal even in the shade of the  Bodhi Tree… All The Wailers are gone now Siddhartha recovered Joy in a broken world Grace delivered Facing Mara face Yourself  Demon of Temptation Am I worthy of Wisdom? Abused and exploited  Earth is Redemption  Lotus Rain upon Your Awakening Cosmic and Karmedic balance Creates The Middle Way Forge Truth Through the Holy Cities No Sacrifice  No Salvation Eyes wide now Dancing with Dream Fish Marrying Brahmin Priests  To Outcast Maidens Nobility emerges Fledgling monks Arrive and suffer Indoctrination  Caribbean chapel chants Liberate poets and pestles Wick lit Silence My mind is freed Nature of self Lends Compassion Connected All things My Island of Happiness  Impossible  in an Ocean of Misery Teach me Wander with me Consciousness  And beyond Hear my rainy fire And I will share  Your open mind with the Weary World Radiant Kindness will be our malignant Miracles  Unknown Universe  Our canvas Generations of Ancestors  Create our shared moment Together You and I Withered robes drag through time clinging and trailing Until we are done Closed eyes of our descendants  Weep for us in ghost memories  Awakened  As we are As it is Enlightened  Strive on Untiringly Be your own light and Smile at the Unknown Divine Pedals fall  On still body Out of reverence  Nirvana March 5, 2021
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Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 10:01 AM UTC
Divine Petals
Stale light under my door reveals nothing upon my bare floor I crave the crumbs you left before I am nothing now If not your *****
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Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 11:35 PM UTC
Crumbs
Onward Damaged Trudging through Stale gleam shade cycled layers of goldenrod and crimson carpet Lain atop Damp asphalt  and reaching blades of wild pandemic weeds Leaves fallen Like letters  pouring upon my page Pale writer Alone hardened and temperate I forge forward Against the  Season's Fall Frost carves My Heart  among stacked spirits like lifeless leaves as death grips Our global Holiday folly abandoned by Unnecessary Loss In Winter's fading light Dreams and plans  maintain holding patterns Now as Arctic glare shifts Souls suffer  Hardship and peril  Just survive Or just let go Longest nights taunt us breaching horrific tallies daily Soon Solstice brings  The turning  of the Season welcome New Light And change Long step Autumn We march Into the next Stretching shadows teach And grow We hope with clear and weary eyes Trudging across  The fallen Across the  Crimson Carpet of Time as Earthly dreams and endless voices are forever silenced December 11, 2020
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Dec 13, 2020
Dec 13, 2020 at 10:23 AM UTC
CRIMSON CARPET
Resentful and bitter Letters swirl Chattering Inside my head Tell you Don't tell you Bickering  There too Pain slight Lost fairness You Won't hear Asked me Caught me Loved me Loved you Vanished In wrongness Used Was I Invited too Then Never Uninvited I hope You told Nice stories About me And danced Alone While our Song played
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Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 7:13 PM UTC
Lost Fairness
Tonight, I rally around my teary tribe as they near the closest ledge. I pause to dream and remember all the right and good which was done. I seize my own tears as I buckle and try to convince myself and all who will listen this moment in history will be our final tipping point of revelation. Of action. We will remember the sacrifice and the light. We will fight for what is fair and just. We will smile and know she has done us well. And we will make her proud. O yea! the conviction and the diligence! The paths of principled virtue, honor, and justness! The sky is most definitely falling and the court shall soon be stacked. Alas! Shout no dismay! Her Crown will glimmer with the tears of a nation. We will lay you down in the highest honor of our hearts and the strongest ambitions in our actions. Sleep your deepest rest O last Queen of Democracy. You did us well. We will hold your torch. And dim deeper no more. September 18, 2020
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Sep 19, 2020
Sep 19, 2020 at 3:07 AM UTC
Dim Deeper No More
I cried again last night. Not the same sweet tears I shed only one entrenching week ago. Not the tears of hope and promise. Not the tears of possibility. Of love and compassion. I cried the desperate tears of traumatic pain and rejected disbelief. Tears of frustration and incredulity. Emoting out loud my fears as I witnessed, once again, our collective failure to behave in a manner of grace. In a manner of love. I cried out as I watched those employed to protect us ****** yet another one of us. Us. Yes. He was us. All of us. With the skin torn from our bodies. With bullets forever assassinating our spirit of unity. We are the same. I cry as I say their names. I cried at the endless list of names. I cry because civil rights are an illusion. A distant and deadly idea. I watched as beleaguered millionaires left their respective fields of play in acts of solidarity during a season already plagued with the short, harsh spotlight of what is truly important. I cried at the quick realization these athletes were becoming true leaders, heroic leaders, by illuminating the crimes for those too blind to see. I cry as I watch and listen to an unpatriotic and hypocritical minority attempt to justify a monster. Such reckless noise has become actions of atrocity and killers are being enabled by the cacophony of a cult. I cried as I heard the rants of lunatics with microphones. I cried as a brainwashed boy was indoctrinated into a malevolent belief system so deeply to travel to another town with an automatic weapon to hunt and successfully ****** peaceful protesters. I cried as I listened to the voices praising him. I cried because the darkest nature of mankind is now fostered. Nurtured and coddled. Our sins are amassed in front of truth and righteousness. Every day. And I cried for the people who know right from wrong. I cried for both those who observe this simple belief and those who don't. But mostly I cried for those who cannot cry ever again. August 27, 2020 The Year of Our Pandemics
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Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 8:46 PM UTC
Different Tears
I cried again last night. Not the same sweet tears I shed only one entrenching week ago. Not the tears of hope and promise. Not the tears of possibility. Of love and compassion. I cried the desperate tears of traumatic pain and rejected disbelief. Tears of frustration and incredulity. Emoting out loud my fears as I witnessed, once again, our collective failure to behave in a manner of grace. In a manner of love. I cried out as I watched those employed to protect us ****** yet another one of us. Us. Yes. He was us. All of us. With the skin torn from our bodies. With bullets forever assassinating our spirit of unity. We are the same. I cry as I say their names. I cried at the endless list of names. I cry because civil rights are an illusion. A distant and deadly idea. I watched as beleaguered millionaires left their respective fields of play in acts of solidarity during a season already plagued with the short, harsh spotlight of what is truly important. I cried at the quick realization these athletes were becoming true leaders, heroic leaders, by illuminating the crimes for those too blind to see. I cry as I watch and listen to an unpatriotic and hypocritical minority attempt to justify a monster. Such reckless noise has become actions of atrocity and killers are being enabled by the cacophony of a cult. I cried as I heard the rants of lunatics with microphones. I cried as a brainwashed boy was indoctrinated into a malevolent belief system so deeply to travel to another town with an automatic weapon to hunt and successfully ****** peaceful protesters. I cried as I listened to the voices praising him. I cried because the darkest nature of mankind is now fostered. Nurtured and coddled. Our sins are amassed in front of truth and righteousness. Every day. And I cried for the people who know right from wrong. I cried for both those who observe this simple belief and those who don't. But mostly I cried for those who cannot cry ever again. August 27, 2020 The Year of Our Pandemics
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Confessions true Decade's delay Thoughts of you In recent day Indulging voodoo Uttered foreplay I invaded your dreams Such earlier night Thus suitable schemes Demand me try write Past permissive themes Fearless visions alight Not fifteen stanzas yea less not more Render to cause you blush coy enough Our mislaid chances upon the shore Remember the tavern on her bluff The hardened carving above her door A friendly pour for this life so tough Crushing the fantasy With kisses and blushes I offer my rhapsody Rest words of lost touches Longing cross our delphic sea Grant berth where love rushes Make you blush through By fortune by will as I write This poem for you Pray set true flirtatious delight Invite me to Invade your dreams once more tonight
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Aug 23, 2020
Aug 23, 2020 at 10:24 AM UTC
Confessions True