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N E Waters Jun 2019
I’m still the desert inside
         deep beat
        be still
rest in reason
deep life in the dry
          When I catch the breath of the storm
          I rise
Ride high on the wings of the wind
       my sky


I’m still the desert inside
N E Waters May 2019
And then I wrote this one about my grandmothers and not knowing one of them-

Born a ghost
Born of ghost
Born to know
The inheritance
Of holes
In borne shone there
Where the emptiness
Grows

You made me,
Borne in wanting
Waiting
For magic
So Ill defined it can’t be known
Magic
Made
In river dirt and rocks and
Loneliness
Me
Child of the void
In you

In
   finite
Trapped
               But ever expanding celestial
To what I can never know,
Never understand
But know
                  That I am missing

Lesser
Wanting
Unbroken but not whole just—
                                                     holey.

Here, I cling
To rafts made
Lashed together of rituals fragmented by time
And space
And here on the ocean,
Stormy seas
I’ll wash swept
Slung to symbolism crashing on the rocks,
Weathered

And is it my solid bits, buoyant with *******
That keeps me afloat
Or the hole
That is home in me.

But then again—ghosts don’t drown
I was born dead at sea.
N E Waters May 2019
I.

When I had to leave, I think
I must have hidden you
I grabbed you up
Put you somewhere safe
Pulled you from me
Into a box, gently 
Opening up the walls of myself,
My old house
I might return to
And I placed you inside and
Gently
Sealed up my walls around you
Like gum
Or snow
Or sand 
She seals you
And left you there to find again one day
 
 
 
. . . 


II.
Pulling down cobwebs
Through the ghost town of me
Don’t wake her
She’s still asleep
I know where to dig
Delicately
Groping down
Like a survivor
Returning to their old home
Shake my bones
And retrieve you deep
From the heart of me
Where I always knew you’d be
N E Waters May 2019
I wear my scars like diamonds
piece by piece
collected
from every place that I've been
mindless,
lost, blind, unable to find this
compassion
for fellow man
to help
myself, because the way
we treat the world
is the way we treat
ourselves,
and it's hell
out there --
but in here, just kind of warm,

in this home I've built
from scar tissue
to clothe me
when I'm homeless
because home is
where your heart is

and we fool ourselves
and romanticize
our drug abuse as art

from every start of
this sad little song;
the tiniest
violin
and we all can sing along

yeah, we all can sing along

and we sing:

me in my mansion
of scar tissue
I can't love myself
so I can't love you
(and) it's true
we're all lonely
lost
and if you could
only see me
remember just to breathe
just to be,
and then we
could look our reflections
in the eyes
and then me and you
might drop the veil
and finally realize
the spiritual
connection

to build bridges
even when we're helpless
if we could only be
just a little bit less
selfish:

take my plate
it's for you
I can't feed myself
I'd rather feed you--

But here in my mansion
of scar tissue
a phone call is like
a gunshot, please--

don't steal my diamonds,
don't
steal the only home
that I've built to
reside in

my vast hall
of vast walls

I'm afraid of December
but,
eager for the fall

this is all I've made
all these years
and if it all would
disappear

m a y b e   s o   w o u l d   I
well then maybe I
could grow you here
a garden--
wall to gravel,
great for drainage

to keep out all the rot
of the rotten cell the self built

I'll topple down
I cut meow-t
I'll bring the fall
and find my diamonds
made of skin

oh--if only to be free
of these walls
I'm living in,
to only excise myself
from my prison made from skin;

would you be there?
would we be there
together?

could we finally lie
eye to eye
breathe deep in
the rebellion

breathe deep,
break free,
of this cell
wall we've cemented
ourselves in to

this is me,
I want to sing

I want to sing with you

we'll swell well form
the start of one tiny violin

to a whole orchestra
of the whole world's song
all these cell-ves
all alone
but together
sing along

and we'd sing:

me in my mansion of scar tissue
I'm learning to forgive
myself
so that I can break
through

and it's true
we're all so lonely
and if I could only
see you
remember just to breathe
just to be
and then we
could break the glass,
I to I

and we'd all be free.
I mean like, **** it, right?
N E Waters Jun 2018
If you looked me in the eyes
in this moment would you
kiss me maybe
and
If you tried to hold me
would you maybe just adore me
i feel these tears in your eyes but
are they
tears of happiness? or regret that i'm the best you can do?

and
If maybe i was your dream come true?
do maybe i mean the world to you?
If maybe i inspire you the way you stimulated me
could it be
we're meant to be
or is maybe this whole things just a dream?

If perhaps we danced along the skyline
and down the desert roads
and maybe If
we took the time to check the signs
would you see me in your one way?

If If If I held all the things that you wanted
that you needed
that you treasured
would you want to hold me
maybe roll with me
maybe smoke a bowl with me
and reflect upon the fancy of our meeting here?

would you find it clear?
would you want me there?
would it be? could it be?
If you loved me
If you wanted me
maybe maybe
dancing under musky starlight under pulsing lights under breaking dawn breaking down under falling trees and tumblin doors
and maybe
just maybe
If you would wish for more. . .

If maybe you would play my game
If maybe you would pull my mane
and maybe we would play again
and again
and again
and again . . . .
why **** this fight for what we think is right and good and smart to do
**** your insecurities your guidelines your safety rails
no ones safe when we dare to inhale
and If i breathed your sweat intermingled with mine
my breath and yours could go in time . . .
and our hearts would beat in something greater than rhythm, our souls would speak in something so much more powerful than rhyme . . .
be mine
be mine
be mine
take me
let me be yours
yes thine
yes thine
yes thine
and our hips would move in sync in time
it's right
it's right
it's right
and IF we made this IF something greater than what lies infected in my mind . . .
lie behind
lie behind
lie behind.

let's ride.
I went to a ****/romance themed poetry reading last night, and it made me think of this poem I wrote when I was 18.  I dug it out of my old facebook, and here it is
N E Waters May 2018
Joy—
Drops
Pure and light
Like a bubble, a moment
Of humanity encapsulated
here.

Slips
through drowning lips.
N E Waters May 2018
I am spread,
thin,
wide.

I am cracked
open.

I am arrested,
ecstatic,
deathless.

Snapped forever back
and forth.

A split-moment frozen
mid-vibration
expanded to create
the illusion of
T I M E

So we can tell ourselves the story
of how we fell in love,
savor the format,
and attempt to sort
the hurtling chaos
The galvanizing understanding
that the lines and boxes we draw
are for fun

because you and I have always been one
for milllenium we are mycelium.

You and I, are
ooze and
rabbits and
molten lava and
sweat cascading
from bodies in earnest
singing through
the single downbeat
of everything happening all at once.

Existence is a period.
but the story slipped between the lines will still be sung.
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