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The day  has now gone here is the night
It's twelve o'clock all lights gone out
Not a single soul no one insight
We look out the window no one about.

Eyes are weary we are fighting sleep
Time to clime up that wooden hill
Waiting for us is the bed and sheets
Tired and drowsy sleep we will.

The evenings are colder
The frost here again
But we are much older
And our health's not the same

So as we head to that slumber land
And we dream our cares away
We pull up the blankets with our hands
And say goodnight to the day.
These cold nights a nice warm bed is welcoming.
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
Oh the devil hath found
                                          Interpreting perverse anomalies
Oh the devil hath found
                                         May you sphacelate you worthless antiquity
Oh the devil hath found
                                You reek of cigarettes and unfrequented deliriums
Oh the devil hath found
                                          What pandemonium!

Oh the devil hath found
                                           An oasis in a wasteland
Oh the devil hath found
                                           A humanoid dichotomy
Oh the devil hath found
                                        A sought after moral wreck
Oh the devil hath found
                                           Love.



........................................................­.........................
....Que le diable et son amant se chargent........
................................................­.................................
 Oct 2018 Pauper of Prose
Medusa
Spinning like a dream,
Lady on the Del Mar
Avenue

Not Beltane, not even May, any season, any time, things are
Jumpin' on Del Mar Avenue, we do it up right on the Ave
So there she is, we run all the way, eight blocks,
T. falls behind, but she tough, she catches up

Just in time

There she is, lone lady who climbs street poles
Hair dangling down like sheets of blessings
I'm too young, I get it, T. punches me in my
Back, yells "go home"

Spinning like a dream,
Lady on the Del Mar
Avenue

Just in time

Just in time
She stay in my mind
Like she can find me
Back to myself

Cause I dream deep
Sometimes I dream so hard
I never wanna wake up

I'm a boy, I might be anything yet
Right now I'm an idea in my own mind. I 'm also a
'Good Person' so I don't bite or punch my sister
All the kids hold their breath as

Spinnin' like a dream,
  Lady on the Del Mar
Avenue

Just in time

Stop sign makes us all one, we one organic thing
Watching her do unearthly dance for us,
Just for us. So we forget to breathe when she dips
down low, she swirl it around
so slow under the street lamp
dipping and swoopin' like a bird
I loved her then I knew love

all of the blocks got still

We feel like a church moment,
Try not to move, just hope she will
Spin like that, dip and defy it all

Spinning like a dream,
Lady on the Del Mar
Avenue

Just in time

Hope might be a moment
Of some kinda Grace & Beauty

We feel hope, because we seen
Magic on the corner
Tonight

Spinning like a dream,
Lady on the Del Mar
Avenue

Just in time

Waits for you
For K de La F
Who is this poem
In every way.
 Oct 2018 Pauper of Prose
OC
Strings
 Oct 2018 Pauper of Prose
OC
Deus ex strepitus
deflecting with its finger
deviations that transform
whole lives
from mundane into tragic
no wonder that
some thing are just not right
poverty
a three legged dog
a drifter under a bridge
you and I

---

I often mistook
the gap between
the light beams of my car
and the shadows splashed
onto a bus stop
for a man who wasn't there.
Where is he now?
At a wedding,
walking the dog,
in front of the T.V.,
sitting there
feeling just like me
removed

---

in another place
at another time
I wrap
my index and my thumb
around your wrist
pondering
what would have happened
if we met by chance
Another old translation. Three short ones that share a common subject. Better in the original language. Apologies.
 Oct 2018 Pauper of Prose
Cné
Much has been said
against me
however,
I will not be spiteful
or allow hatred,
the beast of darkness
that resides
in the black jungles
of arrogance
and ignorance,
to infect me;
for that is no reason
to give way to anger.
So I refuse to let anger
ugly my heart;
for anger
is the scorpion’s poison
of peace
and love, it’s sunlight.
I choose light
contentment and happiness,
as poetry’s not a contest
of winners or losers;
it is the essence
of a poet’s soul.
Peace, love
and harmony
reigns over
anger, hate
and contention
Mental illness is like burning paper in the daylight.
You can hardly see the flame, but the pages disappear.
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