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 Nov 2020 Dante Rocío
Mathieu
Pulsating, clawing, insidious, free.  
Instilled in others to do great things.
The higher the mountain, they warned – “You’ll fall”
You remain at the base of the summit, small

Ready to kick off from the edge,
Realize for that, you have to climb further yet.
****..
You muttered under your breath.

So pack all those bags, with things that are light
And empty the heavies, they will not oblige.
Unlearn how to run, skip, swim, jump or fly.
Focus intently on one step at a time.

Knowing each stumble, the further you slide.
Kick that foot in as if you will die.
Forget all the voices that warned you would fall
That is, as it seems

What you want after all…
 Nov 2020 Dante Rocío
Mathieu
Let us go a little mad!
If we try real hard I know we can!
Let’s not worry about what people think,
We’ll go bananas in a blink!

No more scrolling for what we need,
Or cave into another drink.
All that liquid dulls the senses.
When you’re insane the world is endless!

Let’s say what we really think,
Not be afraid of things hard to admit.
Degrade yourself for what, for whom?
Your ****** beautiful, you know it too!

Yes it’s fear that holds you back,
Your past, your story, you’re better than that.
Who you want to be,  that is your truth
And I’m crazy enough to believe in you!

Am I mad we so easily replace
One with another during a Netflix break?
If chilling is devaluing the human spirit,
How empty are we to need **** to fill it?

I’m not getting really riled,
So let’s go bon voyage awhile,
And not judge all the locals there,
You know, they too feel love and fear?

Now we’re lost in a nice direction,
We’ll stop using ‘hate’ in every sentence
I hate paedophiles and domestic violence
I don’t hate using an iPhone 7

Now we’re madly - I feel a-brewing,
Opinions based on fact reviewing
When emotions feel a little ticking,
Don’t buy that (blipping blip) they’re spewing.

Congrats! We’re seeping deep into nuts.
We COULD argue about funding cuts,
Or join the game of hide and seek with homeless/addicts/single mums.
OH! Using our imagination’s fun!

But in our little game of mad, we whisper
SHHH! 14 eyes will see the picture
No name, no phone, just disappear
I must be bonkers, a secret system!?

A game for friends and friends of friends
What a wonderful world when off your meds
When everyone is kept in a tidy pile
We can jump and stomp, kick leaves for miles!

Now I’m getting upset it’s blowing
The wind picked up and the rains are flowing
The little pile was so connected
They fight, the leaves for the nicest spot -  but in the end they fall, they wither and then they rot.

Some are pretty, some provide shade
But this pile seems to body shame.
If each think spring is unique to them,
the part they play will fall away.

I know that I’m most certainly deranged.
Some of these leaves, want weeds to spray.
All this trunk and extended roots,
They think this won’t affect them too?

I’ve had enough fun for today
Playing mad is a scary game
I need a joint, beer, some time to pray
Some pills, some sleep and don’t ask again.
I will redo this one! Reflecting as I drive over three days from north to south of Australia - the craziness of the landscape, the size, the emptiness - and yes, the kangaroo’s, camel’s and heat stroke.

It appeared to me that the key to understanding our reality is that we would have to be mad to believe it. Both the physical world - and the social structures - seem completely inconceivably mad. And maybe the people who understand, construct and command  it are, in fact, mad.
 Nov 2020 Dante Rocío
Traveler
Mythical worldview’s
breed ideological
   arrogance

Closed face
eyes quickly
look away
disseminating
into chaotic dreams

Shadow casters
pause and quickly
disappear
unawareness
of the unrest
they cast
onto the Mare


With eyes
of sudden judgement
assumed or otherwise
subconsciously
we are **** to deny
the shadows
of our own
moral decline

......

Pollux...
Traveler Tim
Night Mare
One of the night mares
charged with delivering
bad dreams
to the people of Xanth.
From the remote dizzy heights
of the cliff stood a proud raven
surveying below with watchful eyes
no gunman would see where it was hidden-

the baby-birds had been richly fed
summer sun gushed out its light so resplendent
the nest was safe on a sturdy tree in an old estate
intermittent shrill caws echoed from moment to moment
 Nov 2020 Dante Rocío
Aparna
been a-while

spring abridged;winter night

each layer of snow colder n' heavier

earth lay frozen and I frostbitten

icicles of gloom

lining my chest,eerie chill creeping

heart benumbed;slowly melting

basking in apricity,duly warmed up

awaiting spring

anew
let's just hope for the best✨
the sea wrinkles, extends
beneath her moon glow, awaiting
its lustrous return
keening with melancholy ache
of wave soaking midnight sands
unreflective as night's obsidian
hand - snakes along his features
casting a shadowed aura
across his liquid expanse
lulled into silent slumber

while the moon fore-sakes
her nightfall promise
stretched alongside
his ivory form, awakening
breathlessly, tremulously, he
discovers her as moonshine
on outstretched palms, bathing
in her resplendence

         was it all summer night's splendor,
         (quicksilver to his mind like the moon        
         beckoning his misbegotten sea)
         or had she - at last - returned
                to solace his lovesick dream?
Was she a metaphor or a goddess--no one knows, not even he.
i made up a fairy tale for her
about me and tiredness
(about us?)

but she put on her lipstick
she was glad to see me

and took a bag with things

we were supposed to spend the night
together with the same story
 Oct 2020 Dante Rocío
Aparna
rain mist wreathed
virid groves
of evergreen
sun languished
behind clouds grey
overcast sky
lachrymose;
distant rumble
thunder;brontide
pellet-laden gusts
of wind;cold
leaf-stirring
nubivagant drops
falling
glistening foliages
rustling;
celadon leaves
rain-washed
brushwood damp
galore humus
dewy silence;
gerful downpour
incipient
another rain poem:)
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