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Morning came to us
As it usually does,
Crickets chirping
From her Apple,
Me, sighing,
Throwing off the covers,
Stumbling toward the stairs
To hit the can,
Groaning first few steps.

I stopped and said,
"I noticed every morning now,
I always have these aches and pains."

And she replied, sounding sane,
"I never have eggs and bacon!"

Mystified, I told her she made no sense.

"What do you think I said?" she asked.

"You never have eggs and bacon?" I replied.

"You're going deaf!
I said aches and pains!"

And so it goes.
Round and round and round,
Where it stops, God only knows....
of all that's left
maybe distress
maybe hardships
but oviously
it's all that's left
all that's left is
known to me
and known
as the key
to my heart
just from the
start I was learning
the art but now I am
farther than ever and now
remembered in
the caves of all that's left
All that's left is a love Poem with small emotion and
kindness and heart
Empty eyes on empty days
Walking in the pouring rain
Life is heavy
Moving steady
Trudging forward when we're ready
Walking through this ever lasting fog
It's been so long, too long..
if only this breeze would prolong its stay...

thoughts like, man a year ago the weather during this time,
was colder than today..

65 degrees. a New Yorker may laugh...
but a Cali kid is out here freezing his ***.
bonfire in the backyard watching the time pass,
the fire flickering, whispering the secrets of the past.

you should listen.

maybe you too will fall in love with the wind.
fall in love with giving thanks and hugging your kin.
fall in love with gifts, Santa, candles and grins,
finally make a resolution to put behind all your sins.

60 degrees. it gets colder as the night progresses..
you capture the essence, of the night..
and realize its adolescence.
it hasn't yet began to even grasp adult lessons..

55 degrees, feeling weak in the knees,
its been a week, since the tree outside had any leaves.
no fireplace, no heater just a ******* and cheese,
and take your *** to bed early before you get the real breeze.

50 degrees, I'm freezing to death,
more depressed now knowing that my babygirl left,

so I'm here all alone.
me, chardonnay and a cup.
fog surrounding, branches howling waiting till winter is up.




-afj
Helpless
A friend is in pain and I can do nothing
Tears flow of indecision…straining life, staining life
My heart breaks in two…then shatters on the salted dreamscape floor
Coming out of my own skin, ripping the stitches, molting along hollow tree branches
Miles between, so many miles, so much time falls from grace
Breathing is hard, tethered at the moments lost, the suffering imagined
Pacing the floor…finding worn carpet and hidden questions beneath a shallow basement
Wishing the words, those **** words, feeding the solution…would come
Hoping for anything, something, even the tiniest of splintering compassion I can offer
To help ease this weight resting squarely on the shoulders of the weakness that engulfs her
I have no answers, useless, like a block of wood in the offering plate on a Tuesday night
My mind is a vacant lot of empty parking spaces…handicapped and no hang tag
My eyes blur of forced darkness amidst the crowing raven circling overhead
I pound my fist into this meaningless existence breaking every bone of contention
Drowning in my own fear, treading water beneath the surface
Clenching my teeth in a vice like fashion
A friend is in pain and I can do nothing
Helpless
Air
When I look at you
You send shivers
No – sparks.

The air is charged with them
Dense.

I can feel just how much of it
is between us –
(always too much)

And I want more than anything
To cross it –
Wade through the ions
to you.

To only stop when my lips
Meet yours
(the only way I have found
to get rid of the air)
and you take my breath away.
Others, want you.
I can easily tell.
They give themselves away.
Just by the things they do.
And the things they say.

It might be in a whisper.
It might be in an innocent gift.
Just believe me others want you.

It's a compliment to me.
Which makes me so happy.
I have known the taste of salt water,
and the smell of decaying forests,
and the cracks in hundreds of sidewalks,
I have loved the gas petal,
and the airport concourse,
and the ever-changing time zones.
In all of these places,
I've found a home in not having one,
ready to admit,
you'll never catch up.

a.s.
too lovely, my friends
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