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Sombro Jun 2016
A bird flies
Nature throws itself to the wind
And all enchanted bodies
Sleep not tonight

Roaring tides of sea took clouds
As chariots deep and light as terror
Or awe at what could be the last
Wink of lightning on chains of evening

I rooted myself to this bushel
And bore the berry, nature told me thus
For life may be as fruit near fallen
Or rotten-putrid, alcoholic mess.

Driftwood sees me early
And I wake when the storm is over
Not me I told, not shaven me
I am wild now, I have seen the cold.

So woe, those days may live again,
But I will take the razor once more
And live as apes may call themselves human
And live as comfortably as I may after all.
Away from the storm,
But not gone.
Written in an art gallery, looking at a painting of a storm
Sombro Jun 2016
Little nooks have passed tonight
And new beginnings bore us on
But I fear nothing now
Crouch again I shan't

Loathe all above you
Curse the lightning struck so far away
But sleep with me, soft tails of hope
I am your burrow tonight

What minds are temples to these eyes?
What thoughts are wrought of dragon sleep?
What power lies awake at night
Fearing, fearing clouds?

What water stirs the millers opinion?
What algae slinks from murky adoption?
I'm you, I'm you,
The cuckoo sobs
And all else wears its feelings.

For lions may dance
Lions may sing
And lions fear no raindrop's glory
I chill, I scream, but not for your sake
For my own terrifying passage
And what is to come
Hmm
Sombro May 2016
I can speak of jaunty
All I like, I
Won't find that taste within
What are friends?

Given little stories to firelight books
I mould myself to fit the grip
I never knew you...
What are family?

Gardens don't tend to shears
Flowers don't grow for late bloomer
Moons, who are you?
What are permanent?

I never left you
You can't be free of me.
For I consider you all the time
And grade all jaunty songs to your gait.

What are we?
Humans don't stay together.
Does that answer your question?
I just don't care.
Sombro May 2016
I love your
                   pitter
                             patter
                                        paws
On the tarred stroke of steamrollers
Wet, green-eyed, wet
The trees sigh in the shower.

I feel your floating
Your mock of pulls to nuisance
When you fly downwards
To your clouds, your puddles in the sky

What are we, I feel we
A kind of hope in others
And perhaps I said it once before,
But I'm here, here to sing with your pitter-pat
It's raining
Sombro May 2016
What agent of the dark night
Do I seem to you? Baited frenzy?
******* black jacket
Upright with stiff neck

How late
Would you stay up for me
What stars will stutter with me
While I talk to you?
What oil of uneven candle?

Fate me
You verb on lost wings
Lend me a feather, so
I might just flap like you tonight.

I've lost my whimsy
Born my totem, high
I'm me, don't you feel,
Don't you see me standing still?
I may have finally overcome my anxiety.
Ok, this poem says nothing about anxiety, but I thought I'd share anyway!
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