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 Sep 2015 Amber
GaryFairy
canvas
 Sep 2015 Amber
GaryFairy
we can't erase what is already on a canvas
but we can always paint over it
it seems as though someone is passing around info about me getting in trouble with the law over seven years ago. i am not proud of it, but i own my actions. i paid my debt by serving six months in jail, as well as taking a good beating for it. the past paints the future, and experiences change our lives. i am a different person now, and i can't dwell on the past. if others want to, that's fine.
Remain diligent and steadfast , forbid apogee of Lucifer , the beasts anomaly ,and perpetuation of deceit , vanity , communique with the Almighty , not as the speakers but in private with grace and devotion , frailty and hope ..Salt tempered with honey .....Vinegar with wine ........
To the army of gallant soldiers ,those whom have looked upon the face of Hades , undaunted , persevering till mission completion ,godspeed your journey home to a grateful Republic , may peace and good fortune shine above you the remainder of your days ........
Copyright September 12 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Sep 2015 Amber
Thinking Doc
I can hear the nurses over the din
That is my blood in my ears,
Coursing through these veins as if on fire.

I can hear them say "He's struck dumb,
Poor man, gave the boys all he had,
All that's left, of course, is a wordless bag of bones,
And broken heart".

I can hear them frivolously care for the others I cannot see,
Whose names, are to me, little anchors that weigh me
To reality, like a nail in the ground holds a kite down
To keep it from breaking free.

I am silent, struck dumb

Why can't the thoughts that swirl in my mind like mist
Materialize into words and sentences so that a living eye can read them,
So that a living ear can hear them, as they flow from my mouth
In little indeterminate streams,
That can remind me that the world exists beyond what I have seen.
 Sep 2015 Amber
Thinking Doc
Long meanders the line that divided us
While we lived, rugged is the knife that severed
What was a quiet bond between two particles
Of stardust.

From my reserved cloud I can see
The domes on the temples I have never visited,
The ghat that runs by the holy rivulet is solitary,
The mists of human endeavour do not blanket
Those flagstones in warmth or comfort,
All that remains is algae sprawled on the steps
Of the ghat where silence is the spirit
The light and the guide.

Two particles of stardust collide in an instant
In the fluidity of Space time, and all that remains
Is a whisper in history
That once existed two people, separate,
Though begotten of the same dust as the Stars,
Who were united in a flash of light,
And an eternity of peace.
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