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Jabin Aug 2018
Still can’t sleep.
Like the walking dread.
Schedule I keep
Bemoaning the bed.
Jabin Aug 2018
Mountains watching over
open vein streaming
pushed through from
Creatures singing war songs
sheltering their love.
Secret wind
Crumbling avalanche,
at time’s tipping point.
No warning,
just down.
Speck of floating earth rock
spinning forever,
tree seed stretch
in space.
Silencing thunderstorm,
one moment,
to remember life
Roaring fire comfort,
stories of the gods
to guide us
But the season’s changing
compassion choking
yet good keeps
Sweet filling lung intake
scent of the flower,
the hilltop lilly.
The children reveal truth,
adults are hiding
the sunrise
Jabin Aug 2018
Chisel your memory
To my plates.
Mind falling emery
Such is fate’s.

Mindlessly picturing
As by age.
Beauty quivering
Turning page.

Knuckles so painfully
Bending out
Tears fall gainfully
Hope’s sparse sprout.

Image so tenderly
Filling thought.
Eyesight so slenderly
Catching aught.

Breathing intake shallow
Lung fill work.
Every moment hallow
Even murk.

Approaching end rapid
Time so scant.
Experience vapid,
So much can’t.

But you are there,
In the echoes.
You are there.
Jabin Aug 2018
Caught in the snap of a wing
With a flap and a clap
And a sting.

Down to the ground like a stone
What a sound with a pound
All alone.

Watched by the flight up above
From that height what a sight
Of the dove.

Twists from the pain to the bone
Quite a sprain such a strain
Tragic tone.

Scooped by yet a net unknown
Panicked fret foreign threat
Worry grown.

Hope’s deceased from those eyes
Now a feast for some beast
No more skies.

Dress the break hurry fast
Half awake crushing ache
Make a cast.

Days soar by seeds so sweet
Seems so spry can you fly
Hoppy Feet?

Day has come grand depart
Slightly numb flutter hum
Flitting art.

To the blue build your nest
Cry your coo for you flew
Before rest.

Rainfall dream endlessly
Silent scream to the stream
You may read it differently than I do, but this is quite possibly the most depressing thing I've ever written.
Jabin Aug 2018
Tomorrow comes,
the end
so soon.

If only
If only.

Jabin Aug 2018
Living through the night.
the sweetest dreams
keep me awake.
Whispers in moonlight.

Subconscious streaming,
to be made whole.
Tales of heartbreak
happiness screaming.

Light, fantasy stroll
taken by duress.
Dragged through the swamp land,
washed up
on the dreamscape knoll.

Eyes bloodshot in stress
staring at today,
all the lovely words
like a rose bush dress.

Petals floating affray,
and slice at the heel.
Trailing uncertain
A tragic ballet.

Dancing feet reveal
her strength,
and the future glares.
But I know she's strong,
like well crafted steel.

Though it isn't fair:
She reaches her hand,
touches my fingers
I wake with a scare.

My soul, she commands.
floods over terror.
Crying out, I choke,
"Don't go.
Stay in our dreamland."
Jabin Aug 2018
In the morning,
they worked hard
because they worked
for themselves.

By afternoon
were disenchanted
and became goods
upon a shelf.

But that night
the moon turned red
because the toys
came to life.

The next day
the twist ties were left
but not a thing
was right.
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