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white petals pepper his ivy,
some droop casually into the monkey grass
all volunteers, their conception unplanned

after his early constitutional
he takes tea with them, and tells them
life tales--content they listen, hear

first cautious with his revelations
no lugubrious lessons he has learned,
little of loss:

his first kiss,
his summer sojourns with Uncle Elliott
his favorite hiding spot at play

then, when they've heard of joy
he praises them for their comely countenance,
their generous journey from seed

later, when he returns at eventide
he dares tell them of Sophia, his beautiful bride
who tended tulips before these interlopers came

he whispers, so he does not startle them, or perchance
wake her, as he confesses she lies beneath them, forever silent
in their bed
living life like a photograph
I am captured in that moment
a record of images of the past
the black and white of atonement

the negatives scroll through my mind
by now, I guess I get the picture
a flash frame from that place in time
on this wall, I am a fixture

living life like a photograph
it's on my wall, then I own it
a snapshot of images of the past
a still frame of atonement
I haven't been very active here, because i am trying to enjoy the springtime. I am about to camp for a couple of months. I doubt that i will have phone service, but i will be logging on occasionally. Very glad to see the in-flux of new poets here. Keep on writing!
I am in limbo
      between universes
between stars
I am ensconced
       in my own light
in tangible luminance
stored deep inside
                   tiny
                      glass jars
I am whirling into new orbit
     as I take on this luster,
                 this shine
I furl forth choices
in magic spells weaving
                   and take back        
what was always
so rightfully mine
I now hold the staff
      that will part the seas
of my new way
       in this labor
because, honey, there
ain't no time
to waste
no horse
        no glowing, knighted savior
Until this hour
              I was crawling
         but I now I start to rise
as I have my final say
               and the northern lights
         spew out from behind my eyes
I am through with
          this land of ice, land of jagged spires
It is time to bust up
             all those submissive plans
          and spray the whole
place with arctic fire
yeah time to mark it
juice it up
till it licks up pain, till it burns
release pent up years
              of unneeded conflict,
of tensed up
           twists and turns
so just you try
to break me apart
as I try to navigate
between tectonic plates
on two lands
The only knight here
          is my own true self
the situation neatly
in my
     hot little hands
Written with the assistance of assorted empowering musical mind trips, such as New World part 2 and Polar Intertia-Vertical Ice.
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