Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pin rest; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the ***** sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging.  I look down

Till his straining **** among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a *****.
Just like his old man.

My grandfather cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper.  He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, going down and down
For the good turf.  Digging.

The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no ***** to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.

I would die for them
To not be consumed
Through mass consumption,
Through a mass genocide.
Every day, millions dead.
Every day alive,
Just as miserable, as hopeless
As the day they are led
To the heavy slaughterhouse doors.
I would die for it to end.
But since I can't, I'll live for them.

her heart is out at sea
but her hands are busy at work
things that she really couldn't care less about
things she "needs" to accomplish
complaints are voiced so often
about how unfair and cruel life can be and
the inferiority clawing through the minds around her
but she battles her own demons
day by day she struggles but she still rises
and she puts on her armor and she charges at it
she isn't one to hide because she isn't the one to give up
she has always been enviable
but what about admirable?
there's a castle in her mind
with candles lit in every window
and the wind can never take her light away
she is beauty in the making even as she sits idle
she attacks the world around her and comes out victorious
with flying colors
her words are magnificence and her heart is determined
she has always been enviable
she has always been admirable

I missed you.

its as simple as that.
 


the shape of you is but a shadow,

And I found myself jumping through like a *smoke ring hoping to catch you.

but the edges always seem to vanish into thin air...



So im left with nothing

but this simple prayer.



Im sending you love on these wings of hope

to reach you because I missed you.


And its as simple as *that.