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I have a quiet lake of answers
For your raging storm of questions.

I have a placid summer meadow
For your hectic pace of living.

I have a waterfall of caring
For the times you feel unloved.

I have a purple sunset
When your world is without beauty.

I am a fresh baked cookie
When your soul is starved for love.
                      ljm
I don't often get to write love notes.
 Oct 2020 Brother Jimmy
Lena
Lips of ambrosia
kiss me softly
kiss me slow

Sweet taste of heaven
kiss me rough
let me know

How lucky am I to touch your lips
kiss me into endless oblivion
I am ready to fall into your abyss
10/30/19
I am in love again
 Sep 2020 Brother Jimmy
L
Who?

Who would come lay their hand on me
in the thickness of my confusion;
The thickness of my Love.

Will you offer your Hand to me
in my fog
And when home is lost to me
Will you tell me where it is?

Will you salt the wound that needs to sting before
it begins to heal,
Will you salt my wounds for me?

O mystery; Who will you be?
Will you Taste me and spit me out,
for fear of keeping a lukewarm thing in your mouth,
Your mouth, Steady with change.

Will you know I too am steady with change,
Will you know I too am an eager student?
Will you keep me in your mouth,
the days I am not burning and delicious?

Will you forget me
Will you let go of my hand
And forget me in the fog
 Sep 2020 Brother Jimmy
L
I put my voice under a light not knowing that it would burn to a crisp, and all you would hear would be the weakening growls of an animal refusing to die. I thought I had to speak to exist, when all one should ever have to do is be.
You can either be
Face to face with your fate,
Or simply an observer
When the time slips from your hands.
It's about who you were supposed to be
versus who you are right now.
Timings matter,
But the time gone by is something I regret.
What was meant to be and what it really is.
 Sep 2020 Brother Jimmy
Diana
Reflection and poetry are synonymous
To be a poet
Is to be reflective in nature
To be a poet
Is to disperse sparks of wisdom
Within the space of letters and lines
Through moments of inner monologues
“The unexamined life is [a life] not worth living.” - Socrates (Plato)
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