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 Oct 2019 FreeMind
M
it doesn't have to always be me
but it will always be you
 Oct 2019 FreeMind
Edmund black
There is no gift
Greater than the gift of love
                  
No brighter feeling than
The selfless act of loving
                        
There is no
Satisfaction greater
Than the exchange of
The heart

Baby what I’m trying to say
Is that
I am full of love

If I give you my heart

           I hope that,
               You’re
               not
               full
               of
        sh———T
 Oct 2019 FreeMind
Traveler
Good night my love
Alone I lay
The heart grows heaver
With the end of day
A wandering mind
In a maze of rhymes
Gathering poetry
From vanished times
Lovers eyes
Slit the night
A poetic mind
Possesses sight
To see the wrong
In an artistic light
Where the beauty
Of pain sadly ignites
And there a spark
In the dread of dreams
A mirror reflection
Of what could have been
While alone I lay
In my dark room
Rocking and a rolling
And a howling
At the moon
...........................
Traveler Tim
 Oct 2019 FreeMind
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
 Oct 2019 FreeMind
harlon rivers
...a diary of the falling dominoes chapter

invisibly dying from the inside out
no one is looking into unseen eyes
no one can hear a muted voice fading
no one is close enough to be near

the deafening thrums echo
anxieties’ racing heartbeat
within morphing flesh shell ,
gasping for new breath
in a hovering stale silence

from a distance
the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ;
much closer the reflection reveals
someone I once knew by heart

now an unrecognizable mask
enshrouds a terminal emptiness
inconspicuous at a fleeting glance ,
impossible to discern what storms rage
from the inside out ,... unnoticed  

an uncontained wildfire
smoldering within,  lies in wait
for the imminent winds of change
to fan the flames into the final
eternal silent ashes

a poet reaches out demurely
offering a candid look
into the window
of the imperfect human soul

there is no poetry
met by indifference
just gathered unread words scribbled,

squandered time
dripped slowly on an empty page ;
moments turn into days
days turned into years

invisibly dying from the inside out
an unfinished life trickles out
like seeping blood evanescing
from a bottomless puncture
wounding ... penetrating the heart,
leaching out the slow death of a poet

for poetry is only words unless they touch someone ...

befallen to indifference is poetic death
by salted paper cuts ...

a muting suffocation
that hiddenly erodes away,
silencing the passion
of a musing soul
one unread word at a time ...


© harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
it is an enigma how poetry evolves in meaning over time
― like a self-fulfilled prophecy, some become transformational, some become new beginnings or some become a finality of a metamorphosis of peaceful endings or deleted attempts at understanding the misunderstood...

... all to be determined and allowed to let be

― THE END ―
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