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 Jul 2015 Mallow
Silver Hawk
The Nag
 Jul 2015 Mallow
Silver Hawk
A little poem stirs me awake
in the morning, before the alarm goes off.
It follows me around as I brush my teeth -
dashing left and then right, pecking
continuously at my unkempt scalp

In the afternoon it is the shadow
that sweeps the dusty street behind me,
imitating my short heavy steps
pretending to be on its own journey

I nudge it gently away as I enter the office
but it is the words floating from my boss' mouth,
the hot tea warming my assistant's cup
the glass windows as they swing back and forth,
and the tiny drops of water that magically
turn to air as soon as the cleaner's mop leaves the floor

In the evening when I sit to read a book
it ghosts ahead of my eyes,
stooping after every few words
to put the next into a plastic bin,
transforming the page
into a crossword puzzle

Until finally I throw up my arms
shuffle to the overpopulated table
and begin to unravel the message
sent from the neural galaxy
that was awake when the rest of me died
 Jul 2015 Mallow
Cameron Godfrey
Her name tastes sour in my tongue
It hurts my fragile ears to hear it
Even when she's miles away
She haunts me like a vengeful spirit

Hearing you speak of her
Sends shivers down my spine
For I know as long as she exists
You cannot be mine

The way your lips form her name
Makes me want to *****
Your breath is like skywriting
Tracing her name among the clouds like a comet

My rage is a lion
I cannot tame
Every time you say her name
 Jul 2015 Mallow
brixton bell
Finishing off the last swig of the last beer, I sit back.
All I can hear is the slow heavy, drowsy soul slipping off the notes the trumpet is playing from the small stereo – the perfect notes, hit in just such a way. The surely dark rooms where these notes were recorded. Once upon a time, somewhere somehow so far away now. A different, better world.
The view of the romantic.

“Hold me close in old – this is la vie en rose” Louis Armstrong sings. I want to be the lover of Louis. I want to be the girl who’s eyes he is looking into so deeply it almost hurts- almost tangible; “Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose-” he sways again.

And then again with the trumpet- there’s nothing like it. Nothing in this world.
Not to a lonely girl like me on a Friday night.

http://brixtonbell.com
We are so close, but not just by physical touch;
I can feel you the way I feel my cheeks warm up,
after you have said something
that inevitably causes me to blush.

Its as though our souls are connecting
on the same frequency
radiating off the core of this Earth.
This pleasure is unnoticed by most,
but we can feel it
like we feel the blood dripping down our thighs
on a substandard night.

Before we started talking, so many years ago,
I never believed in true love
or really love at all.
I always assumed it was just all in the head,
and two people could only connect to a point,
unless you were related to each other.

After the first year and a half or so of talking to you regularly,
you proved me wrong.
You proved what I grew up believing
for 16 to 17 years was completely false.

For if I had never met you,
to this day, I more than likely would of continued preaching
to myself, that everyone else
who has experienced this feeling called
'love' was insane.

Life without you would of still been bearable,
but only because I would still be lost in ignorance.
I am more than grateful you walked out of your way
to meet up with me that night three summers ago.
I owe you so much, and will cherish every moment
I'm blessed with standing by your side.
I'll make it a point to provide a nurturing life for you,
one worth living for.

You are my world, my inspiration,
the main reason I look forward to waking up,
or falling asleep cuddled in your lovely arms.
I cannot wait to see you later today and hug you,
while my heart races with satisfaction
like the first time you put your arm around me.
This is more than just some fairy-tale,
this is still the beginning steps of our long journey together.
So we mustn't give up when things go south,
for if we do,
it will be the undoing
of what our relationship has always been about.

You truly are my best friend,
the one person who'll never let me fall
if you know you are capable of preventing it,
even if i don't want your help at all.  I appreciate that,
even when my words or actions do not acknowledge it.
You truly are the only reason i was able to climb out of that dark lonely tunnel of agonizing depression;
for everyone else either dragged me father down or walked out.
You are my life saver, my sweet guardian angel.

I love you, my dearest, Chris, forever and always.
 Jul 2015 Mallow
Cecil Miller
I jumped on a freight in Monticello,
Didn't know where it was going - you
Had given up on me, baby -
So, I'd given up on you.
A rumbling song as the train rolled on,
I had plenty-a shine to drink-
I was trying anything I could,
So I wouldn't have to think.

Few and far between
Are  the hopes I'll ever have
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams
Are few and far between.

I could still remember how
You said you wished that I would leave.   
I'm giving you what you wanted.
Something you can believe.
You won't hear from me, anymore.
I know that to you I'm dead.
I won't ever haunt you,
Like your words that won't leave my head.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.

The boxcar slowed in the railway yard.
I jump off - the gravel cut up me knee.
I heard them barking, so I took off a'running.
The dogs were closing in on me.
I made it to the Vieux Carr'e
Before the St. Louis clock struck three.
Tell the children I love them.
Or better, tell 'em not to think of me.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.

I'll always wish it was different.
I hope you find somebody new,
Hope you find the kids a daddy
Who's good to them and you.
I hope you know that I really tried
To be the man you needed me to be.
I couldn't keep you from happiness,
You couldn't keep me from being me.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.
I started writing this song in 1991.
The ispiration was a song called "Talk to me of Mendocino" as performed by Linda Ronstadt (from the albumn Get Closer), and Kris Kristofferson's Me and Bobby Mcgee,and my own exploits of hitchicking around the country at the time. The first and the third verse were writen at that time. The second and the fourth verse were writen about 5 months ago. I touched up the second verse today, as I submitted this work to be more sympathetic to the subject's mindset of depression.
This is kind of my Thomas Wolf piece. Part homage to my experiences, without being autobiographical, as I have no children.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I own the copywrites to this and all my work.
Please do not use this poem to buy, sell or fundraise for this or any other site.
 Jul 2015 Mallow
Chris
~
Caught in a web that a spider is spinning
Counting his legs as I notice him grinning
Perhaps a dream that is just now beginning
I must be falling in love

Singing a song while the music is playing
Don’t know the words, I make up what I’m saying
Not really dancing but just sort of swaying
I must be falling in love

Running a race down a path that is bending
Seeking to finish, I know it is pending
Sweating so much it could be never ending
I must be falling in love

Chasing mosquitoes now constantly biting
Waving my arms like a windmill that’s fighting
Or like a group at a UFO sighting
I must be falling in love

Filling my cart with bananas while shopping
Cleaning the peels off the floor as I’m mopping
Sliding through red lights there’s no sense in stopping
I must be falling in love

Hitting a drum in a cadence that’s pounding
Played in a very nice rhythm, astounding
Just like a heartbeat in spring it is sounding
I must be falling in love

Writing a poem with words that I’m feeling
Every desire your beauty revealing
Asking your hand as I’m carefully kneeling
I must be falling in love

Now as I stare in your perfect eyes glowing
Feeling affection they’re constantly showing
Finding each day of my life I am knowing
With you I've fallen in love
 Jul 2015 Mallow
Outcast Dreamer
"Smile to your shadow,
It won't smile back...
Say something to it,
It won't reply back...

It won't ever say anything to you,
Yet, It will always follow you (Like a fool)...
When the times are good,
When the times are bad...
Ever felt such a belonging?
No you didn't!
Bet your Shadow did.
"

(Let me be your
Shadow**)
 Jul 2015 Mallow
LadyBird
Thoughts of you used to be dragonflies.
Now they're polar bears.

They used to softly pull at the corners of my mouth,
Giving me a constant look of contentment.
Now they only inspire a gag from within by,
Bearing their teeth and with a growl,
Expelling stinky, hot breath into my nostrils.

Now, instead of easily slipping to sleep,
To the hum of the pretty insects,
At the end of my days,
I lay down and give myself over to
The vicious claws of your memory.
I let them come and thrash at my skin.
I am all out of fight. I let them tear me open,
Devour my strength and relish in my pain.

Upon waking in the morning,
I will calmly regard the damage,
Before silently repacking my organs
Into my abdomen and carefully stitching
The casing of my body back together.

Before, walking out of the door,
I gaze upon the likeness of Frankenstein's
Monster in the mirror, then apply enough
Powdery foundation to face the world
Under the guise of "I'm great! how are you?"

Finally, when the sun and smiles fade and
Have rendered me utterly exhausted, I will once-again
Fall back into bed with the polar bears of you.
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