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 Oct 2024 Crow
onlylovepoetry
she stood by me even when
most of my disasters
were of mine own creative actions,
but in the crises that always
unexpectedly
rose up dramatically
when driving off road,
where there were
no guardrail guarantees

so when the doc says
“sir, needed surgery right away,”
She unashamedly inquires
“ok, what about tomorrow”
making us all chuckle,
and doc a smile/responder,
“how about 6:00am the day after?”
and you accept (me observing)
with
a stern smile of pretending concession

so when recovery consists of
three ++ walks a day through
the corridors of the Unit
which morphed from an endless huge
to a
small prison courtyard,
where in a day everyone,
patients doctors and
rotating shifts of nurses
are greeted by me,
idiot extrovert,
with an intitial
giant hello and a wink,
which after first three
“shuffles around the block”
has become a
saluting exultation,
a look of surprise
with a
“You Again!”

that gets the inevitable
twinkle from everyone

somehow
this greeting came home with us
and thereafter when,
she stirred awake
to see me shuffling in with
coffee and a quarter cup
of crunchy Kashi & banana
(a/k/a nana & banana)
and a too loud
“You Again!”
which infallible makes
an AM grumpy disappear
and
soon becomes
a time honored
ritual

now that I’ve honored the oath
which was promised jokingly
by me to She,
that I be the last to depart,
cause doing it twice,
was an unbearable job,
and long enough gone
and I am back in my
own private recovery
honeyed (yellow) painted room,
The Enpty Pillow
with imaginary smiley face,
hears a mourning yellowing phrase,

and when the grandchildren
make
their obligatory dragged along
monthly visitation they be greeted
by old friends
a firm hug and an
emboldened
“You Again”
and their smile says
“you’re embarrassing us”
+++ childlike acceptance

and the rivulets ridiculousness

that accompany this scripting,
+ any accidental overhearing,
or get even getting a read,

is fresh brought out of
tears storage
and each teary one with
a Hey!
meant to be cheeryr
greet & repeat

😉us again!😉
The boulder river almost called
the figure leaning on the bridge.

The height wasn't much
but one touch would crush.

He saw a doll with its blood
floating away with the current.

Thin line, he muttered under his breath,
I never realised
it was this thin.

He snatched himself away from the moment
and headed towards the rest house
thinking
I would give it a try,
some time.
 Oct 2024 Crow
guy scutellaro
a faded blue and white flannel shirt
long black hair like midnight
and almond shaped eyes

her name was Grace
and she was beautiful

i had long hair
and we sat cross legged
on the grass in the park
smoked a joint

i was 19
the philosopher poet, wise,
and misunderstood

then we walked and talked along the beach
until sunrise

she had to catch the bus at 7 a.m.
back to where it didn't matter

at the bus station we held each other
and kissed

and she was the flower that blooms
once in a lifetime
the tail of the comet passing through the night

grace, what you are will never be again.
 Oct 2024 Crow
Nat Lipstadt
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath


Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.


Jan 6, 2013
your effusive and lengthy comments are each a poem in their own right.  

Tinkered with June 22, 2013
With a push from Bala,
A serial peeper, thank God!
 Sep 2024 Crow
South by Southwest
He kissed the lips
of Lichen
Then likened it
to the silent lips
that never speak
 Sep 2024 Crow
Nigdaw
past
 Sep 2024 Crow
Nigdaw
not a word written
not a word uttered
thoughts stream
like traffic on the motorway
so many journeys
so many destinations
not even sure
if they all make it
Sunday fades into a sunset
Monday looms with it's onset
nothing to do but wait
a perfect moment passed
a perfect moment lost
darkness descends
this will be no more
 Sep 2024 Crow
Nigdaw
box
 Sep 2024 Crow
Nigdaw
box
I put you back inside your box
and placed it just behind my eye
the lid is loose and the sides cracked
light shines as though under a doorway
your story paramount in my library
when you're not here I hold a breath
that is yours and yours alone, a sigh
for when we are once more met
and history tumbles like yesterday
 Sep 2024 Crow
Nigdaw
candle
 Sep 2024 Crow
Nigdaw
I lit a candle
to finally say goodbye
it felt better like a pill
had cured me
of all my anxieties
you burnt down the wax
like another life
one small light
in the cavernous space
of a church
no more room for blame
no more room for remorse
I've let go of the kite string
like I wish I'd let go of your apron
ties are cut
heaven awaits
I am at peace
and you are at rest
 Sep 2024 Crow
Nigdaw
drunk
 Sep 2024 Crow
Nigdaw
I will float
somewhere between my dreams
and the darkness of reality
this space holds a truth
that only my blind eyes can see
if I cease to believe
I will no longer exist
lost in space
falling upwards
into the abyss
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