You were in my dream
last night again,
but it didn't seem
the same its been

we didn't get
us back once more
we didn't let
us open sores

your hair was long
your face was older
your stress seemed gone
with weightless shoulders

We were together
frog and toad
just friends, good weather
no past debts owed

And when I woke,
that morning bright
my thoughts did choke
but my heart was light

I had your memory, snow-white pure
yet didn't feel, your absence there
To have had you, I'm so grateful, sure
But I no longer breath, recycled air

once upon a time,
a man called daniel
rented a room in a street
near a town,
where my feet struck pavement
a lot of my life
daniel and me,
we met in a pub,
on a warm
july night
he took me home
filled me with charm
kissed me under a bridge
daniel was older than me
by 22 years
knew where his hands wandered
knew i was 14 and an addict
oh his mouth said all kinds of filthy things
while he held me down
and i went back
and i want his mouth off my skin
his fingers and everything else

If you wish the world a better place,
then gather hearts and hands and bow.
If you yearn for love and peace,
then feed a starving child. If you wish
to live a loving life, then open your
eyes and watch yourself hold out
your open hand to a stranger whose
skin is a color different from yours.
And if you wish a better Earth,
take your guns and bombs and
pray to God to turn all of them
into hospitals and hopes for a
world of one.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Sheep daunted
Gracefully the wind hums,
Darkened clouds-
The warmth overbears us.
Trees, oh mighty-
They tremble in the haze,
A blue and green fury.

Stilling like-
Some dying machine, unmade.

Branches whip
The gentle lake turns, churns

Bell shaped lanterns flicker
Before the man shaped name

Feelings of wet cold grass
Like woven fleshy cod
I feel-
I feel-
Has the man left the room?
I think it might be June

staring at a screen
it says ‘bad gateway’
what does it mean?

I don't know
but I've seen this before
that's why I'm in
survival mode
it's gonna be okay
I'll just take the next road
left

writing poems...
in my head

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                            America Inspires the Free World

Americans are a people who, when menaced by a tyrant
Watch TV to applaud someone cooking an omelet

I wanted to use the words of alchemy to
depict every sensation you brought me
Though instead I’ve ended up birthing a terrible sensitivity and great capacity for expressing the broken pieces of what is left.
I Never Wanted To Be A Poet.