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They will tell you
All poetry has been written
There is nothing new
Under the moon
But let me tell you
They don’t know you
You are as unique
As the DNA that exists
Within your frame
The ripples on your thumbprint
No one ever had the same.

Listen...

You have something to say
Say it proudly
Say it boldly
Never let them scold you.

Never let them make you go away.
I love it when someone tells me to keep writing. You should keep writing too!
 Nov 2018 Girard Tournesol
L B
Can I tell you how seriously I take this poem!
_
Could the sun be
    just
    a hole up there—
    that if I could leap
    would enter that breach of light

Someone!
   Throw me a line!
   Give me a reason
   There’s never enough
   in this life of breathing!

Someone!
   Explain why dreams roll a soul
   toward the cliffs of day
   Wakes to ache
   then stuffs its mouth
   with necessary same
  
Inhale—
   button shirt—brush hair
Exhale—
   necessary glance in the mirror
   (yes, still there)    

A lifetime!
   in a shallow instant’s stiff clear water
   (Yeah— still there)  
   in endless caverns of tired eyes
   above mouth still trying
   to say SOMETHING!  
   from ever smaller eternities
   in the glass-flat empty....

Please! Someone explain!
   this draw of breath
   one forcing itself upon another's
   life
   of beating —
   Violence in my chest!

Why hearts don’t sleep—

and I wind up watching
again and again—till
I am the ******...

...Morning lies
   in the mists of a humid *****
   who moans and sweats
   and boils her hips—
   and I wind up watching!?

“Will someone please…!"

   ...and I wind up watching
   bedspread, bed sore, death bed
   till you’re breathing easy
   when she sits and picks
   her collapsed bouffant
   damning the makeup
   that got crushed in the sheets

…Morning
Lies--

   with no expectancy
   both tired of knowing...

   ...The Devil lost his balance
   in my presence one night


...tired of knowing—

THE WILL!  
THAT WILL!

  ...walk away
   or continue to play

   I could open this screen!
   watch the world STEP BACK!
                                 SLAP FLAT!
   as trees and dwellings flush like quail
   to prop their tottering panic
   against the blue—

You—assume composure...
   compose assumptions
   Await my next—

Move like a spy


1990


Take careful note:  

Why I don’t play chess or any other game
for that matter.
    
    
“...and when you're really out there
the windows all have opened onto nothing...
Death having long since-- left the scene.
When you get really out there
it's all--
and nothing…”
It frosted good and hard last night
for it was twenty-eight degrees,
heat and humidity are now gone
so we’ll welcome the snow and bare trees.

But today the sun was shining bright
high in the November sky,
there never was such a shade of blue
to delight my searching eye.

The Burr Oaks dropping their golden leafs
no more Maples a fiery red,
the quaking Aspens are flattering maize
a warm quilt, to put the earth to bed.
~
A morning of snow and icy roads... For those of us who live in a place where we experience all 4 seasons fully, it's time to brace for the long months of winter, look past the cold and see the beauty that is placed before us. Remember, the new birth of spring is right down the hill, through the forest and right around the corner. Best wishes for a warm and safe winter!
You can do it
Just give it a try
You might surprise yourself
Instead of struggling to get by
Always take action
That is the foundation of success
Follow through on your words
And strive for excellence
BAR
IF YOU WANNA FIND TRUE FRIENDS WHO TREAT YOU AT PAR,
DON'T YOU SEARCH ANYWHERE ELSE
JUST GO A NEARBY BAR !!!
Grow up, they said
but even as I did
I lost some child like wonder

Now. All I could ever want
Is to grow back down.
The truth
        Is
Love doesn’t
  Recognize
All the artificial
Man made restriction
    We try to place
           On it

       It simply
flows between
    Souls and overwhelm
The hardest hearts

     Love is power
            Love
          Is peace
Kindly choose love
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