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Pseudo-Oriental visions
Haiku, Tanka, exotic terms
Vapid New Age vibe-transmissions
proliferating eastern germs…

Anarchistic thought collages
Existential lacerations
Nihilistic heart-massages
Incoherent lamentations,

Communism on a mission,
grievance-mongering, stewed in hate;
pounding Fascist fusion/fission
chanting harshly “ours the state”,

Hymns to Gods who choked on *****
undertaken in overdose;
rocks that never rose to comet
rolling – but ending comatose,

Hipster ironies, tongue in chic
Metro-wimps who feign the normal,
Redneck rantings up the creek
semaphoric,  semi-formal,

matron’s maudlin observations,
motivational hypnosis,
(sentimental medications
offered prior to diagnosis),

coldly abstract neo-nonsense
read (by dullards) as cutting edge,
letters void of correspondence;
well-trimmed words’ linguistic hedge.

Climate whining (tried untrue)
with eco-prophecies warning doom,
Wiccans and tree-sprites trying to
undo the curse and lift the gloom,

Feministic tribal ranting,
Race-complaining, agitation,
GLBT gallivanting –
all are blights upon our nation.

Boring modernist excess,
(no longer daring  –  formulaic)
confounds –  yet never can address
what’s wrong, and so becomes prosaic.

Lists like this are perhaps  the worst;
another symptom of our times:
we who are woefully unversed
in rhythmic complaining that rhymes.

i held you in my arms & cradled you to your grave as you heaved your last breath. nine lives is a lie, you only get one crucifix.
 Feb 2015 Sara Ackermann
How do you say goodbye
To all the things you love
How do you leave
All of it behind
Do you whisper
The words
As quiet as you can
As soft as a breeze
How do you say goodbye
To everything you have
How do you turn away
And never look back
Do you walk
As slow as possible
Or do you run
So quick you're invisible
*how do you say goodbye
 Feb 2015 Sara Ackermann
I cried the entire way home because of you.
Because I had to leave a birthday party because of you.

You've taken a piece of me I'll never ever get back.
You've taken my life away or whatever it was actually.

Your face intrudes my mind and your sharp words pierce my ears over and over again.

It's been 12 years.
12 years.

How have I not forgotten by now?
It's been 12 years.

Because to me it's equivalent to my limbs missing.
You've taken pieces of me that I did not give you permission to take.

And no one stopped you.
It's been 12 years, and I cried the entire way home.
 Oct 2014 Sara Ackermann
Love is blind
But it makes me mute
I can't tell you how much I love you
In the way I can't even love myself.

Explaining this to you
Is harder than I thought
So I smile and lean towards you
To kiss you on your forehead
Hoping that's a signal you'll understand.

Black is the day where the light withers away.
Leaving my world a foggy darkness.
Leaving my life without loves compassionate and woeful kiss.
The sun my delight I ardently miss, stealing away her suculant and burning desires kiss.
Giving it away but not to me, leaving my days in a lonely eternity.
She the one allowing my darkness to wrap it's perversions around I, allowing it to be free, forever free.
Missing the light.

I never saw a mountain move
by the pure grace of love,
But by desire, I saw a continent
dragged to the tip of the sun.

I saw the sea raising its current,
trying to ****** some star,
like the blood in your stream,
while someone else made love to you.

And I lost the will to live,
and the desire to die
chained to your altar.

And the hummingbird
he put on your lips,
it splattered you of freedom,
but in its hum you found a prision

for two pigeons with no course,
for the canary I left in your hand.
and it was not from love, it was of pure desire
that you opened your mouth and closed your fist.

And I lost the desire to die,
and the will to live
Chained to your altar,

As if there was no other God!
That I could worship
As if there was no other God!
To which I could kneel
As if there was no other God!


All these men on the pedestal,
and if each one is given a cross,
How many gods will we praise?
How many won't be dead Christs ?
How many won't be stained sheets?
How many, on Easter Sunday
will not even face God? Goodbye.

I opened my mouth and I created you a universe,
I showed you the tiger and the dove,
I planted on your chest an ivy and a rose,
I watered you of morning and sun,
and still, you preferred to go down to hell,
with the loneliness, the bone and the shadow
a snake and a red moon

For his tired eyes,
for his bitter smile,
for his brown hair,
and hands that had never touched you,
and a horseman that won't ride you,
a street on which you never cried before,
and any other meridian time.

For some other Adam
that galloped away
from a paradise he did not find in your summer,
a string of few beads
that is embedded in the ground where I bloomed,
where a tree of blood and prayer grows,
that in each fruit bears my flesh
and the seed of another God.
 Sep 2012 Sara Ackermann
You give me your hand, we start to dance,
for the first time in years I think I have a chance.
I love you more than ever now,
but could you love me somehow?

Just a kiss on my lips in the moonlight,
to tell me I'm lucky in love with my best friend tonight.
I'm tired of all these lonely lullabies,
always bringing tears to my eyes.

You pull me close, I feel your heart,
beating with mine like they could never tear us apart.
I love you more than anything,
but could I be your everything?

Just a kiss on my lips in the moonlight,
to tell me I'm lucky in love with my best friend tonight.
I'm tired of all these lonely lullabies,
always bringing tears to my eyes.
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