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Dany Mar 2018
We search seas for rough
cleansing, but
some times, some new
some old,
we search for her to lap away
the warmth in our sun-born flesh,
to ease away the white-hot-heat and frenzy,
till her cold wet fatigue may kiss us full
of calm, of passivity, of loftiness, of sea-foam docility
and to chill our temperment some.
Sip her blessings, child,
but I warn you, her cup overfloweth
and in your wanting,
your pining doubt,
an open mouth spells a ominous quiet,
and a hushed sigh of grief--
for the sea mourns your passing--
or rather, the passing of the warmth
she grasped too quickly at
when your heavy head dipped too low
too weakly, and bright eyes closed cold
and meekly.
Dany Mar 2018
I came to the sea,
where she lapped
and fled so easily,
but in my wanting
I saw her not.
…But the clouds came.
They came, they went—
and shyness was the shore
where I rested my heavy
soggy head, to offer up dreams
to the dying warm gold of grain,
in defiance to the cold n' coming rain.
seas are alaways a comfort.
Dany Mar 2018
We Titans, with fated breath, our cheer bursting in claps,
in thunder.
And we, whose loud romps, shook the world.
Soda-pop sticky, barefoot, n' green laughs rickety,
We spurred on with cold weighing our fingertips.
We saw the paling pink joys of seashells
leaping, lunging, skidding in surging shallow waves.

We Titans, naked few, have shared this all,
held it in our young palms firmly.
And against the retreating cool of night, we stood.
Laughing as it hurried across the winds,
stirring the sleepy beach town behind,
as both our eyes greedily swallowed the gold,
the light, that chased the milky-blue horizon away.

We Titans, shivering under waves and waving long arms,
like the branches that cradled us when the sun
spilt himself down and baked our cheeks red.
Wore nothing, but the lightening we huffed
and slung around our waists. Our triumph of
bursting might cracked open our little chests and mingled
secrets and giggles, purging the boredom until
only the return of night set us fearful and plain.

We Titans, were the jokers, the rulers,
the paupers and the villains. Gilded trust we wielded
and yielded upon one another. Our bond like a flame
in the dark of our eyes that hid what we feared.
And tender did it flick, twirling across the faces of
monster and friend, as we sipped the dying daylight as youths.

We Titans, though age may pull us far from tumbling seashells,
may rage and call one another from dubious memory.
But our friendship still dances here,
as a destiny set in the soft pale pink trembles of my dreams.
To know friendship as a Titan is to know life through the eyes of a beloved, through the eyes of a kindred soul... and to romp with playful evil delight.
Dany Feb 2018
May you have the sweetest,
Of Lavender dreams.
Sweeping silvery-sugar clouds,
Glowing of liquid moonbeams and

Of honeyed words doth your lullaby go,
Free your tired eyes of sadness and woe.

May it lead you to a stranger land,
Flowing of milk or Lethe-en creeks,
In riverbank's golden grains of sand,
Hypnos hums low, notes ancient and meek.

Dark sky's old stars winking down, upon
Your slumbering head alight candle-crown,

Downy of angel feathers, your plump pillow,
Light illuminates your cheek with tender yellow,
Acacia trees gasp softly under mindful willow,
True peace does surround the Old world mellow.

Of vanilla dew do adorn the dreams you seek,
And of a humbler wisdom does dozing speak.
Dany Jan 2018
Hollowed murmurs crawl
From shaken wells you've sprouted
From; ventured farther than most
who've pined for gold noons.

They call, reverent,
To the passion-oranges n'
decaying yellows,
to wrap you from winters foul grip.
But fail. And lay frozen in powdery
sweet dusk.
Summer glows but it's pallor stumbles into a glinting Autumn but then slips into a dead Winter. See Springs harkens to Summer's Ghosts and his rebirth.
Dany Dec 2017
Oh, memory strike
down my waning pride,
and like the visceral
oceans in the sky,
fall each dawn as dew,
and surge each paling dusk,
pour like torrents
of monsoons \ hurricanes.
Serve only as a reminder
of the wars I've lost, and
the battles I've just begun.
Memory knows me better than I do.
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