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like me , your breath leave,
as she or he just walked by not noticing
your exceptional qualities,
and for sure , you have
loved someone where they
tore the heart out of your being,
and you have walked in the dark alone, as I
with no one by your side, asking why?
And then you have too, been the one to walk by
someone, I am sure, I did, not noticing
their interest in you.
Either wanting to run away or just numb in a
remembrance of your pain or sufferin'
Ain't it cruel
we all
do.
my hairline sweat and tears
mist from a shoreline,
paint down my wrinkles like waves cresting
a rocky beach,
my colors so dissolved, all my fleshy canvases
exposed to too much sun, my piercings all droopy,
teeth falling out. I need a hair cut a good dentist and Dr.
Phil. Or just strip down to my loincloth
go back to Rochester,
run with  wildness, as I did then
through brush and bathed in purple
abandonement, virile unabsorbed
lazing under the mulberry brush
the willows swaying down to touch my unscarred youngness,
with hope with hunger, then.
It’s really not funny, you know

I can’t …keep …my head up

My eyelids are heavy and low

My blood is all …bled up…

Or maybe it’s drained down below

To my stomach, where dinner churns

Maybe just a quick lie-down, though

But the Rabbi implores us to stay alert

Gah!  I can’t help it. My lids are like lead

Peripheral vision's closing in

‘Can’t escape grogginess in my head

He’ll understand...flesh is sin.

I don’t have power

The power of will

In this late hour

With the moon and the chill

The spirit is willing

But the flesh is weak

His anguish is chilling

The outlook is bleak

But even so, I’m just so drained.

Each time my head bobs I make Him weep!

I was made this way, I’ve always maintained,

I just can’t function without sleep
it happened once
upon a time

a place with a piano
   much wine
  & cozy talk
they left late
   tied in an amiable hug
heading for their separate quarters
   each knew
   the other shared
   with someone else

passing through the old library
she gently pulled him down
    upon a persian rug
    and lifted her skirts
    quite irresistibly

they melted in bliss

knowing it would happen
   only once
in their time

         * *
They sat holding hands on that old wood slat bench
Waiting for the train
She in her flower decorated straw bonnet
He in unformiliar stiff black boots
And itchy khaki suit
Shy as young lovers are they sat holding hands
A seventeen year old innocent country girl
An equally innocent nineteen years old country boy
The train pulled in and with one last chaste kiss they parted

*

Every year for the last seventy years
She has laid flowers by the memorial on the edge
Of the village Green
She has no grave to visit
No sacred place to call her own
For her first loves name is but one of many
Carved on that village memorial stone
if given a reason to,
a song beautiful or a poem from some
prophet , more beautiful than the sun
a hymn sung by a choir of perfect children
a book trying to say we all are beautiful
the way we are, a crooked tree a five leaf clover
proving rainbows truly at the end are teasures,
a smile from everyone on earth at the same time
hunger abolished war a memory
the seas calmed the skies blue and on
the edges a lil' yellow
upturned lips, the stars sparkling the moon full all the time
with dark a time for sweet sleep
tomorrow a day we all meet hand in hand across colors
nationalities sexes lands make a stand together
to be one as if god is true would want us to be loving,
if my dream came true I might
believe and smile....
then
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