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Jesus Christ promise me
  there's hope for us still
  that you'll drop from the
  sky and set things right
  keep the communists away
  and stop the lies and let
  me drink my wine in peace
  and write madness in poems
  while You do heavy lifting
  and we won't be so reckless.
By the time I was 23
Mom and Dad were
both dead.
I know it sounds
strange, but I felt
like an orphan;
like Oliver Twist.
Real love has
eluded me ever since.
like the goldfish in
the tank
at the Chinese restaurant,
when I reach in and
try to grab one.
Growing up, I thought
my parents would live
forever; of course that's
absurd, but even back then
I was a dreamer.
An overflow of salty tears remains,
in hearts that covet love unrestrained;
The faded colors blanched and undefined,
with no more reasons left or undermined.

In quiet rooms that tell the tales beyond,
a world renowned for catastrophic bond;
Rises up and quells the cursed interference,
dismissing painful shadows in adherence.

The awesome glow of firelight brings pause,
to secrets gleaned from past events and cause;
No other sights diminished in the sphere,
dividing worlds of comfort far and near.

In due time these secrets have their way,
of revealing angry voices gone astray;
Yet wonders of the starlit sky commence,
in carrying missives in profound repentance.
 May 2021 Corrinne Shadow
Nobody
Sometimes inspiration is free
Other-times it costs you the world
In our abandon we seek
Divinity, eternity
And often the meaning
Of our words
Eludes even us
Are we an author?
A seeker?
A valiant warrior
Braving the darkness
Seeking for such elusiveness
It sets the mind free
Within that darkness
Lies the eternal
A place without form
A castle, a dungeon
And for the unwise
A prison without end
And only those
Well acquainted
With their own madness
May tread its murky waters
To pluck that fruit
Whose shape is an omnipresent
Kaleidoscope of meanings
And to solidify its form
And cast it onto sprawling page
This is our work
Our bottomless pit
Our greatest weakness
And our ultimate triumph.

-----

Reformatted version:

Sometimes inspiration is free
other-times it costs you the world
In our abandon we seek
Divinity, eternity
And often the meaning of our words
eludes even us
Are we an author?
A seeker?
A valiant warrior braving the darkness
seeking for such elusiveness
It sets the mind free
within that darkness lies the eternal
a place without form
a castle, a dungeon
and for the unwise, a prison without end
And only those well acquainted
with their own madness
may tread its murky waters
To pluck that fruit
whose shape is an omnipresent kaleidoscope of meanings
and to solidify its form
and cast it onto sprawling page
This is our work
our bottomless pit
our greatest weakness
and our ultimate triumph.
You fell asleep upon my chest, my dear,
And I am guarding you with greatest care,
As if you were a china *** placed here,
Which has been worked with skill to look so fair.

I turn and see your tired, pretty face
I stroke your silky hair with pure delight,
You don't wake up, but your heart starts to race
When in your ear I'm whispering, “Good night!”.

You've plunged into the world of dreams you weave
You laugh and cry, and sometimes even speak
I feel like Adam with his lovely Eve
And I can't help but kiss you on the cheek.

I pull the quilt and feel that you agree
I look at you once more in the dim light
I say a prayer both for you and me
And then I fall asleep into the night.
I travel forever to the end of time
leave a spy glass inside this rhyme
I fell for you in a newsreel at 10
brave and boyish I fell in love then.
You were never in my distant horizon
but the yearning was always poison.
Amelia, you disappeared out of sight,
broke a million hearts on that flight.
~
This isn't happening
all of the sudden
we need to close the beaches
and call in sick

Don't cry again teargas
it's not your fault
don't get hot there gun
you gave it your best shot

Song and dance, weekend warrior
soothe your soul
with a little radio friendly fire

The forest can be petrified
the sea wild
working without a mask
is both, you know

It's quite out of this world
but you haven't
really seen outerspace
until you've had DayQuil
with dissociatives

Then you take hot trips
to odd places
like an international
convenient store
where they're always
out of Africa and milk

I wish Monday mourning
would go jump off a bridge
I wish taco Tuesday
would become a festive holiday
nevertheless, our girl Friday
is always good for the job

The weight has lifted
the wait has (week)ended
the search for
my socks and sanity
can now kick off

~
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