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A young girl of only nine years,
stands in the doorway as her mother disappears.
As she zooms down the road,
the girl wonders why.
Her sister explains,
as she begins to cry.

Her father is gone,
never to return.
The tears stream down her face,
and her eyes start to burn.

He had left them for good,
God took him back home.
Her best friend had vanished,
she was left all alone.

Her father is dead,
she will see him once more.
He will lay in his casket,
and be lowered into the floor.
On June 29th, it will be exactly 6 years since I lost my best friend. I was 9 years old.
If you have someone important in your life, don't let them go,
If you love someone, let them know,
Life's most important things go unsaid.
1099

My Cocoon tightens—Colors tease—
I’m feeling for the Air—
A dim capacity for Wings
Demeans the Dress I wear—

A power of Butterfly must be—
The Aptitude to fly
Meadows of Majesty implies
And easy Sweeps of Sky—

So I must baffle at the Hint
And cipher at the Sign
And make much blunder, if at least
I take the clue divine—
Remember the time, when we sat on a bench
and you spoke with such eloquence;
I got scared

Remember that time, when we danced in your basement
and you kept stepping on my feet;
there was no music

Remember the time, when I laid my head on your lap
and you were so tired that day;
you made me cry

Remember the time, when you kept punching the door of your room
I was just outside shouting;
we made love that day

Remember the time, when I threw things at you
I slapped and clawed you;
you said "I love you"

Remember the day, when you said you were tired
I begged you to take me back;
you didn't

Remember all those times, because I never will
I may not deserve you, you may not deserve me
but those memories are worth remembering
Calling yourself
ordinary

is not a justi-
fication

for knowing nothing,
not a thing,

about the world in which
you're breathing.
Four am.
A time…;
When the world is complete.

Moonlight, now, fades
Onto… a new-day’s fog.
Salty, …shabby wooden planks;
Silent,… serene boardwalk;
My  delight…

Such haze holds the stage;
Now, to walk

The idles of time.
Foggy mist
Seeps… onto the rise.
Water reaches
Then… clings upon moist wet sand.
Useless…
The struggle; The pull.
A  resigning white line
Bubbles
Caressing mist …tingles the flesh.

A pervading heart
Beats.

My… thoughts of you;

Such breath gives me
Flight.

Soothing breeze… lifts tattered wings.
To raise above nature’s silent kiss
To reach… beyond endless sky.
Ascend… above our sea

Beloved; Beyond all;

Beyond
Space;
Time;
Shadow.
To you…

Where I fly
… free

Freedom,
Freedom, once more
To feel;

Oh, my love
… to feel

Once more.

Beauty;
Memory;
Your arms.
The rapture’s of your heart.
The touch of your love,

The beat …of your heart
To fly…,
Free,

Freedom
You
Beyond…
Reach …
Your reach;
Your heart;
Two hearts
Where,
No echo… exist.

Desire
Longing
Mist
Reaching
Reaching
Reaching
Beyond…

B­ut…;
Gulls cry!

Sunlight

Misty fog
… burns away

Clarity

A new day
…wakes

Once more silence

A heart
Beats…
Alone.

Gulls hover
… to feast
Once more

On time’s tide.
To the teddy that always guards my dreams:
You quietly sit there,
not a word to be said,
In my room you preside,
your ears always listening,
you never whine, or complain,
judgements don't fall very easily,
from your stitched mouth,
I cry and complain a lot,
most of what you hear is sad,
I'm sorry for giving you,
only frightening memories,
My tears sometimes,
drain down my red face,
to be absorbed into your fur,
Only you know my heart,
and understand my every motion,
whether I tell you my hopes and dreams,
or not,
you already know them,
I hug you often,
you being my closest friend,
none understand me,
but you were the first.
You keep all my secrets locked up,
inside your round self,
my protector and guardian,
Even though it's hard for you to give me advice,
I still treasure every moment you give to me,
my precious little bedside knight.
Some clichty folks
don't know the facts,
posin' and preenin'
and puttin' on acts,
stretchin' their backs.

They move into condos
up over the ranks,
pawn their souls
to the local banks.
Buying big cars
they can't afford,
ridin' around town
actin' bored.

If they want to learn how to live life right
they ought to study me on Saturday night.

My job at the plant
ain't the biggest bet,
but I pay my bills
and stay out of debt.
I get my hair done
for my own self's sake,
so I don't have to pick
and I don't have to rake.

Take the church money out
and head cross town
to my friend girl's house
where we plan our round.
We meet our men and go to a joint
where the music is blue
and to the point.

Folks write about me.
They just can't see
how I work all week
at the factory.
Then get spruced up
and laugh and dance
And turn away from worry
with sassy glance.

They accuse me of livin'
from day to day,
but who are they kiddin'?
So are they.

My life ain't heaven
but it sure ain't hell.
I'm not on top
but I call it swell
if I'm able to work
and get paid right
and have the luck to be Black
on a Saturday night.
The Cuckoo called.
His cry plaintive,
His voice etched with pain.
          I searched for Him.
          I parted The Veil, The Wall
          But like the Broken Window, He is not seen.
Our paths merge.
A pattern of Knots and Crosses.
And to His reflection, I call
          Fly with me, You of The Sky.
          Fly with Me, for a Better Tomorrow.
          And together then, We can rejoice,
           *In the Insanity of our Lives.
The Cuckoo, for the most part, is a loner. He hides behind different faces, Never building the nest, Always in Flight. For some reason, I can always identify with these wings.
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