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Jun 6 · 307
Last Full Measure
Crow Jun 6
what were the means by which
they came to wear a uniform
it is meaningless now

what was the color of their skin
in what manner did they speak
what was their music
what place was home

all that made them who they were
overshadowed now
by why they are gathered

wearing that uniform
standing in ranks
standing for their fellow
warrior beside them

giving to the final breath
for the most precious
gifts they themselves
had been given

whether family was
10,000 miles away
or next to them in a hole
in the dirt
so close each could feel
the others pounding heart

they are in ranks still

at Arlington
at Leavenworth
at Miramar
at Normandy
at Belleau
at Manila
at hundreds more
and unseen graves in
jungles and mountains
all around the world

ranks that will stand till
the earth itself changes
Written first for Memorial Day less than two weeks past. But I felt it appropriate for the 75th anniversary of D-Day as well.
Jun 6 · 276
Crow Jun 6
there are too many Ifs in the world
If only I had made another choice
If I had thought that through
If they had stayed
If I looked different
If I could stop doing that
If and If and If and If

they fill my house
and my car
and where I work

I smell of Ifs
like the odor of cigarettes
on a life long chain smoker
the aroma of If emanates
from the cells of my body

we drown in Ifs

is If another way to ask why
without phrasing it
as a question

or is it an answer
to a question not asked
except in our
inmost places
Apr 14 · 495
Crow Apr 14
the vivisectionist comes to call
when I am separated from you
his palsied incautious hands
removing the hours from my body





dragging his dull rusted scalpel
across my psyche
in his leaden deliberate pace
in my ear
he will have no truck
with anesthetic

I am bathed
in the sanguine gore
of his butchery
which others mistake
for sadness
abscission - the act of cutting off
Apr 11 · 194
Butter Me Up
Crow Apr 11
always leave room for me
in the margarines of your life
Sorry if it seems a little pat
Apr 8 · 256
Once, Twice, Again
Crow Apr 8
what is the span
between one kiss and another
is it marked with clocks
or calendars

perhaps calculated
with breaths or

in that indefinite or infinite
time love may die
or be discovered

ending a kiss and
beginning another may be
some kisses never end

a lifetime may pass
between one kiss and the next

a kiss may come in a dream
burning desire turns to
bitter taste of loss
as wakefulness brings solitude

too long
since I have kissed you
Mar 27 · 302
Crow Mar 27
gaze at me and slight the moon
and all the stars in her company
then to your melody shall I attune
my love for you a symphony

come with me on silvered way
weave moonflowers in your hair
then to the bower we will stray
and long I’ll kiss you there

sit with me at basin’s bound
fount in your light agleam
with falling stars you are crowned
and in beauty reign supreme

give your love to me alone
though all may seek your favor
when they depart false lovers flown
Cupid’s grove we then will savor

cast your cares in fire’s heart
and dance with me till dawn
I’ll be your artist and you my art
our love goes ever on
Mar 15 · 1.8k
The Great Pi(e) Fight
Crow Mar 15
professor Burke and professor Lee
two mathematicians who could not agree

loudly voiced their differences at half past noon
having daily lunch at the Greasy Spoon

the subject on the fateful day was Pi
and they could not see eye to eye

a disagreement on the thousandth digit
had Burke turn red and caused Lee to fidget

said Burke “No you are off by one!”
spat Lee “Your math is poorly done!”

Burke shouted, “Lee, you have gone too far!”
reached toward the counter for a candy jar

but his hand instead encountered pie
a hideous gleam sprang to his eye

he flung the pie with all his might
hit Lee full face, eyes wide with fright

but Lee recovered and found more pies
Boston Creme took Burke between the eyes

apple, custard, lemon, berry
pecan, pumpkin, key lime, cherry

pies of every kind were thrown
plates' radius squared remained unknown

the police arrived to break up the fray
took the two meringued men away

many hours later in the quiet cell
with pie for ink and tempers quelled

the two stood looking at the wall
upon which lay their equation scrawled

said Burke, with both their faces long
“Well, what do you know. We both were wrong.”
In honor of Pi Day. With gratitude to Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy.
Mar 10 · 4.8k
Crow Mar 10
we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections
Mar 3 · 1.1k
Crow Mar 3
nothing hurts me
like your pain
Feb 28 · 496
With Bated Life
Crow Feb 28
your tenebrous image enraptures me
future’s heat brands me with you
your silhouette fills my vision
but all your features are hidden

calling to me in a voice I know
but have not yet heard
a shout made a whisper
you are so many years away

always I have known you
sensed you by your absence

I chafe and fret, anxious and
expectant of your arrival
believing it imminent

eagerly I shut my eyes to
what little I know of you
trusting as only callow
youth allows that no
more is needed
than my open arms

I see you everywhere
impetuously I give my heart
only to find no synchrony
even the lineation was wrong
each time it is not you
you are still
far from me

yet I am wrenched forward
I lurch undiscerning, heedless
pressed forever into rashness
by all consuming urgency for you

endless, fruitless searching
confusion and despair
my constant companions
lost in a torrent of nothing

like one freezing
in lingering polar night
to stop is to die, helpless
I stumble towards providence
An account of my unfortunate teenage years. It is a follow on to Separated By Birth.
I have made some changes as I felt some things were in need of clarity.
Feb 21 · 303
Guilt by Association
Crow Feb 21
when we are young we practice love
though we know not a whit thereof

each pang we suffer our heart askew
must be certain sign of love most true

each time our heart is cut and bruised
is a lesson taught of love misused

a stern instructor of teenage years
life keeps teaching through our tears

but pain and sorrow are love’s only school
we must attend if we would learn this rule

it’s not love itself which does us wrong
but the lying tongue and deceiving song

no love gone bad is not to blame
it’s a selfish heart to which love’s a game
Written primarily about teenage love, but the lesson holds true
Feb 14 · 1.1k
Hands in the Dark
Crow Feb 14
take my hand and don’t let go
hold God’s hand with your other
give no attention to what you hear
it is only murmurs of lies
words which are of no substance
the sounds of phantoms
they want to destroy you
to cause unbearable pain
to everyone you love
do not listen

do not let go with either hand
so that you cannot take
the hand of Death
when it is offered
For my friend, Tim. Who, two Saturdays ago, let go of a hand.
Feb 2 · 984
Crow Feb 2
I hinge upon you
you are the fulcrum
of all my motion
Not all three line poetry is Haiku
Jan 20 · 396
Crow Jan 20
I am adrift in shadow when parted from you

existing in a non-life and a non-death
caught between dominions of light and dark

my soul, disincarnate, hangs suspended
impaled upon the sundering hook of an obscene
numinous dismembering of the essence that is Us

twisting and battered in an enervating wind which
moans and wails like the wretched, suffering ******
filling a haunted and dissonant land with anguish
at the midpoint between rivened you and I

all aspects of me are halved, dissipated
I must survive with half a feebly beating heart
inhale for but one struggling lung, choked with ash
seeing only half the sky, half the world

My scattered thoughts incomplete and disordered
I drag myself, mauled and maimed, towards
the next transcendent moment of palpability in Us

Khronos, laughing, mocks all my efforts
drags the hours just beyond my numb fingers

I can only touch you if I reach inside of me
Jan 12 · 1.0k
Crow Jan 12
I have a desperate need
to be away from here
but if I cannot be with you
there is nowhere to go
Jan 3 · 463
By Design
Crow Jan 3
I am formed to be yours
at the threshold of inception
we were molded together
bisected, to find rejoining

your every curve locks to me
as water flows to find its depth

my eyes are shaped
to see your face
my gaze is drawn to you
as the moon draws the tide

my lips are patterned
for your inimitable kiss
I can taste only you

my heart opens for your love alone

I am a bell tuned to a singular tone
reverberating with your voice
I resonate with the sound of your name

the key of your words
unlocks my undiscerning ears
that I may hear you
whisper to me of love

your scent perfumes my life
echoes of you in each fragrance

my fabric and yours interlaced
without seam or stitch
we fully encompass each
the other encircling
Dec 2018 · 485
Crow Dec 2018
they said she was a dreamer
no clouds to veil her thoughts
a fantasy believer
her mind a maze of knots

she loved to live in make believe
talking to her porcelain kitty
thrilling stories she could weave
a pint-sized Walter Mitty

dreams can change as we grow
so it was for her
imagined prince became a beau
Oz became Big Sur

childhood fancies may pass away
with little pain or strife
but adult hopes, should they betray
can leave a wound for life

so many ways that dreams can die
some peaceful and humane
some burn out, or with a sigh
others outright slain

dreams can turn to nightmares
some live past their death
haunting those who called them theirs
once precious as each breath

but dreams can holy grace receive
and dreams can live again
hearts can heal, no longer grieve
and faith not be in vain

dreams can live on love alone
dreams shared grow stronger still
a dream fulfilled can be a home
or a castle on a hill
Dec 2018 · 500
Beyond the Ballroom
Crow Dec 2018
Tango on a tightrope
Argentine Cross vibrating the line
like the strings of a Latin guitar
playing our song
only a spider’s web for a net
if we fall

Waltz on a wall top thirty stories high
our story tops them all
traffic below doesn’t even see
top hat and tails, silk gown
cocktails in our hands
Fred and ****** sit it out to watch

Rumba on a rope bridge
hips sway in time
with the windblown span
gliding past missing boards
waterfall below shouts up to us
can’t make out what it says

Paso Doble on a plane
faux bullfight on a wing
Matador and his scarlet cape
pose and sweep
turbulence tilts the dance floor
ten thousand feet to the ground

Quickstep in the quicksand
feet so light in rapid step
no time to sink
flow across the surface
to syncopated beats
shoes left stuck to the floor

steps we mastered long ago

now we glissade and sweep
only to the rhythm of us
most challenging of all dances
and most natural of movements
always in step
dancing on the edge of our hearts
Dec 2018 · 407
Crow Dec 2018
I no longer measure time in minutes, hours, days
I now measure by with you or not with you
Horology - The study and measurement of time
Dec 2018 · 1.4k
Crow Dec 2018
How do I go
When my absence melts you
How do I turn away
When I am immersed in you

What else can I see
If you are all my vision
What can draw my mind
If you are each thought

Are you truly alone
While you are surrounded by fears
Are you left without voice
While you scream in silence

Is there a limit to my rekindlings
As I extinguish with each last look
Is it possible to breathe
As lungs fill with endless calls to you

At what point could there be too much us
Though there is never enough
At what point is pain exhausted
Though the void of apart is limitless

Where is the end of empty
Can it be found when we are cleft
Where do we cease to touch
Can we be disjoined at any point

Why do we bleed with stilled hearts
Must away be bottomless
Will actuality ever come right
Do we survive, or die trying
Catechism - A set of questions put as a test

Though most often thought of as religious in nature, it need not be
Nov 2018 · 997
In a Nutshell
Crow Nov 2018
Leaving work I realized I had forgotten something
I turned back for it and headed up the stairs
I met a coworker coming down as I went up
He smiled and said “Hey, you’re going the wrong way”
As we passed on the stairs I said
“You have condensed my life into one sentence”
True story
Nov 2018 · 419
Crow Nov 2018
rigor eros braids our fingers together
sealing our hands, palm crushed to palm
inhaling your breath as you exhale mine
ravenous eyes devour all before them
rhapsody reverberates from hearts and walls

never ending thirst drives us always on
draining the sweet, deep red cup of libido
with fever induced voluptuous draughts
driven beyond the delirium of voracity
we ricochet off boundaries of carnality

lungs heated to ignition by bodies racing
to keep pace with limitless appetence
minds consumed by hearts desire
insensate to wounded and broken flesh
love’s voice shouts in deafening collision

time coils around consummation’s aura seeking us
we are hidden between a kiss and apogee
unchained from the somatic world
locked together in amaranthine embrace
ecstasy overwhelms mortality
Nov 2018 · 2.5k
Crow Nov 2018
A creature not of here or there
With parts that do not fit
Neither fish nor fowl, horse or bear
A bashed together kit

Too many heads, some with horns
Body furred and scaled
Eagles wings and spines like thorns
And as a peacock tailed

Some aspects might bring a smile
While others will repel
One small detail may beguile
Yet another breaks the spell

Each pack or flock it tries to join
Though they seemed akin
And in some facet quite adroit
Another portion can’t fit in

Every time it tries as best it may
To hide an offending section
Knowing that if seen in light of day
The result will be rejection

So the beast remains an alien
Cloaks what's best concealed
Strives to imitate the chameleon
That no misshape be revealed

All creatures hunger for a home
Chimera hungers too
But it wanders doomed to roam
A haven to pursue
All of us are Chimera to a degree. But some more than others.
Nov 2018 · 2.6k
Crow Nov 2018
Some want to redistribute wealth
Perhaps instead we should redistribute love
Then wealth would redistribute itself
A (hopefully non partisan) thought for election day
Nov 2018 · 1.1k
Self Medicating
Crow Nov 2018
miss you terribly
eating too much chocolate
not good for me ugh
My first try at Haiku. Despite stereotypes, men do this too.
Oct 2018 · 411
Till Undeath
Crow Oct 2018
On Hallow’s Eve I bent my knee
Asked her to be my bride
I hoped her heart beat just for me
That love would be her guide

She said “It’s true I love you,
But there is something you must know
Of quirks and twists I have a few
Though you may learn them to your woe”

“I’m really not like other girls
Now get this in your head
Though I seem all bows and curls
I really am quite dead”

“You’ve asked me for my hand, and see
I can give it without harm”
And quick as counting one two three
She ripped it from her arm

“So now you know the truth” she sighed
“As grim as can be said
Why none would want a girl who died
Let alone one who’s undead”

She was bewitching in the full moon’s light
Standing there hand in hand
I was filled with love and not with fright
And knew I must take a stand

I cried “Our marriage plan we can fulfill
I believe in body positivity
Whether alive or dead it’s a body still
Regardless of morbidity”

We made our plans all through the night
Our thoughts like blood did flow
By dawn we knew it would be alright
I just must learn to sew

I held her close with all my might
Vowed to leave her nevermore
She asked ‘Please dear, don’t squeeze so tight”
As her left eye hit the floor

We celebrate our love each Hallow’s Eve
With ghosts and ghouls and witches
I love her laugh which you may believe
As I keep her all in stitches
A Halloween love story
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