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 May 2022 POSSIBLE
am i ee
the moon started
calling to me
tonight,
from out
of my deep slumber.

whispering silently,

'come on out,
visit with me
just for a bit,
sit with me for a spell.'

she said.


had to get up,
out from under my warm covers,
out from my warm bed,

to step outside ,
to commune with her again.  

in this quiet,still
this silent, part of this night.  



Just me,
and the moon,
and
this glorious cold night!
Such relief from the inane activity
of ‘civilized’ suburbia)
 May 2022 POSSIBLE
Glenn Currier
So many “road stories”
from the Odyssey, and Kerouac, to Augustine.
Each rich in emotion and spirit
most of the stories
have the hero hitched to a fellow traveler
to bathe the soul in word and mood
to throb with the music.

I have recurring dreams.
I’m in a hotel looking for an elevator
can’t find my floor or room
or can’t find my car downtown.
I wander streets, and lots.
Are there road stories hidden in these dreams?

Why do I trip, fall
stay misplaced and lost
find only
transitory
destinations?
 May 2022 POSSIBLE
am i ee
Huge snapping turtle
caught on the stepping stones

puppyhead startled
me, am amazed

prehistoric in shape
adds magic

to this rainy
spring
morning
 May 2022 POSSIBLE
am i ee
feathers
 May 2022 POSSIBLE
am i ee
delicate small black feather
spotted and dotted in white
you bring such delight

small lightish-grey feather
having come to rest in the gutter
there you are found

an expected surprise this morning,
want to travel along, a little way,
with me?
 May 2022 POSSIBLE
am i ee
Stop mommies, stop daddies

I want to see the stars too,
And chase the lightening bugs like you.

Don’t **** the night,
With all of our lights.

Save it for me.
Don’t steal it with your new bought glee.

May we turn out our lights?
Maybe for just one night?

So that I can raise my eyes,
To the stars above,

And feel the magic and mystery,
The velvety black night brings,          

For now,
And for all of eternity.

Now may we turn down our lights,
And turn some off too,

So that I can grow,
Under this star filled sky

Free from  the glow,
For the rest of my life?

And my children’s
and their children’s too?
take a look at the International Dark Sky Association www.darksky.org. feel free to share this poem to raise awareness.  My heart breaks about how terrible this situation is evolving.  Fortunately I have had half a life without it being too bad... but I want everyone to be able to see the stars when they walk out their front, or back, door.  Will this be the last generation to be able to see stars?
 May 2022 POSSIBLE
am i ee
93, 94, 95

watching the obituaries
when will it come?

for the one I love?

the one who gave
birth to me?

years flow by

ups and downs
so many forgotten.

tears and fears
washed away by time.

silently we sit,
content,
now

and perhaps
for all of time.
 May 2022 POSSIBLE
am i ee
hmmm,

'makes a dune of sandy wasted time'...

feeling that line settle in.  

Eliciting a tingle,
up my spine,
through my circuits,
in my organism.  

Words well worth pondering.  

But wait
there is more...



thanks for the new word
fellow poet here,

'thew',

who knew?

that one so good,
existed,
out there,
for me,
and
for you?



*thanks Richard Barnes!
Thank you Richard Barnes 16h.   for the inspiration your poem gave this morning.


...a dune of sandy wasted time.
Old age,
feel the strength
not from height or thew, but
By a heart profoundly stirred
by prophetic eyes through and through,
the fullness of the past,
But were we ever young?
Now a prison of weary pain
Dull remembrance of what has changed.
Thrown off the cliff of time with
mists that clogs a future pantomime
when it all ends as  the hour glass sands
makes a dune of sandy wasted time.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4578938/a-dune-of-sandy-wasted-time/
 May 2022 POSSIBLE
Ken Pepiton
A trove of fatherless boy stories, rise
as **** on a pond with poor drainage…

our people, sons of the sons of the pawns
sent out to occupy the land, in manifestation
of a story,
as old as money itself, the entity, sinkhole of love.

Redefining refinement, sifting, smaller grid,
more individual ways to slip through
dia- meaning moving through, thorough, every ply
pierced, to mean this is true, at this point
dialog, as in the movies, what do you say next.

Right. Say the right idea makes wrongs become
well advised, as to ways words work, to persuade,

Lemme butbutbut in, as I was a child with sugar cane
available, so sweetness, was never the same,
once refined and distilled to a particularly angry spirit,

- meandering, that angry spirit disallowed,
- is your freedom boundless still, thy will being done
- or have we become otherwise, as a species self-aware.

we make ag-we re-tie this knot, as then, a three fold chord
properly arranged, is not easily broken, we renew
each thread, at the pace of male-pattern baldness
as our faces take on memorable shapes, masks,
- yes, the senses sense music, where no sound may be.
- emptiness, prior to the NULL set,
- we have installed, on a per-use basis, each is free

A perpetuational situational advantage POV.
Higher pitches
- swing and a miss, and where may we be

Not Kansas, as a given… trope switch reset cold reboot
in the middle of the road, stream, course, cause, way
Yeah
is a song any wind any rock may witness, listen
am I alive,
or is it you?
Old man exercise in actualization of an asked for reality, easy to imagine, hard to believe
We are depleting our planet little by little while taking what we need
perhaps this is the time to give back to Mother Earth and plant a seed
Imagine yourself in the forest picking chanterelles, like times of old
Wild animals running free, deer panting by the river with eyes of gold
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out
Giant trees with leafy arms that encircle you with love and breeze
they talk to you in whispers, about the magical ignite of precious soil
Best part of you is now immersed inside this magical embroil
you are part of the whole, part of everything that breathes
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out  
Place your back against the trunk of a tree and allow the energy to enter
Up in the heavens the angels are sending you rays of golden sun
Your creator is re-shaping you like a soft pliable piece of clay
he wants you back tot he original shape of the creature you once were
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out  
You own blessed hands, a blessed heart and a capable body that works
give thanks for the gift of living, give thanks to Mother Earth
and the One who has given you life, you are loved beyond all measure.
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