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Stars of tragedy.
Stories of their untimely demise
Told soberly in newsprint.

Stretching from Africa to Mexico,
Victims of natural disasters, crime,
And of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

What was here is lost.
What was warm is forever gone.
These envelopes that remain can be stamped with anyone’s address.

In the end, it’s all the same
Dust
That settles in the melting ***:

Empty shells littering beaches,
Dried-out husks,
Vacant houses.
"Bodies" is a poem from my book, "Blood for Honey", available both at Lulu.com and Amazon.
 Oct 2016 E C Vadnais
ab
other
 Oct 2016 E C Vadnais
ab
last night i dreamt i kissed a boy

i don't remember who he was,
or his eyes or his hair

but i remember his lips,
i learned the pattern of his stubble
and the warmth of his kiss

i remember his body.
he was thin, lanky even.
i could feel his ribs under my fingertips.

i remember his breath.
feeling his lips curl into a smile,
the feeling of sticky, sleepy kisses
when all you hear is the other one breathing.

and i remember his hands.
long, rough fingers in my hair,
the way sunlight wraps around you
and cannot let you go long after it escapes,
and our noses pressing together.

i don't know if i was myself.
i don't remember being a boy or a girl.
my lips felt his stubble, not my own,
i learned the beat of his heart
but i couldn't hear my own,
i know he was there
but i don't see myself.

i only see him.

i was so close to saying i only wanted a girl,
that her softness and strength
would be all i need.

and that is still true.

but i cannot forget the roughness of a boy,
the tenderness that leaks through
in his smile,
pushing his dreams into my body through my lips.

both are their own kind of unique.
i cannot say i love one, but not the other,
or that there isn't a huge spectrum of in-betweens,
all i can say is that i dreamt of a boy,

and that
the dreams he planted there
need to escape.
~yikes™
The cram of stars in the navy-night
blue-light of summer solstice.

The majestic zodiac sprawled
across the ever-stretching sky.

Ancient definitions of myth
star-stories of pre-determined fate

mapped in the moment and place
of our birthing; such fantasies

such imaginings of stellar systems
and mankind’s significance.

Heavens and humours; rules and rights
from Gods to kings and subjects

All settled in an ordered Universe
until, curiosity, ingenuity and invention

observation and record, rigor and Science
with its license to question freedom.


© M.L.Emmett
 Oct 2016 E C Vadnais
GaryFairy
solely engrossed, slow to emotions
prone to be a soul that is broken
lowly focus, frozen devotion
vocal notions erode when unspoken

(doing fine, i lie with a smile
while i fight my own quiet trial
i clear my head, i'm alright for a while
but
a mind that is clear is a mind in denial)

goal, avoidance of a throat opened
my vocal notions will go unspoken
choking on the voices stolen
prone to be a soul that is broken
I was ready to quit this site, but all the support that I have received while I wasn't even active has changed my mind. Thanks to all who have read my writing. Hugs to you all!
 Oct 2016 E C Vadnais
okayindigo
My mother was a writer.
I remember her,
papers spread out upon a bed sheet in the sand,
stacked pebbles protecting her work from the wind
as I made drip-castles at the water's edge
and braided crowns from wild poppies.
I would run to her so she could
rub grape sunscreen into my sandy shoulders
and I asked her once,
“Mama,
is that poetry?”
and she said “No little one,
you are poetry,
this only tries to be.”
and I thanked her,
and ran back to the water
to search for flat stones to skip,
and thought no more of poetry.
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