400 that's more than my dad did
He just did birthday cards.

(The things I ask of myself while sitting in the dark)

I shoulder the borders of everything . . .
of the nothingness trapped inside the air . . . is Atlas crushed ?

All the holy mole of mountains that I've stumbled over , am I saying I never really cared ?

The indentations of life ,
the craters that I plunge carelessly into . . . can I crawl my way back out ?

That sentence in the book of life ignored returns , was it just to haunt me . . .
or is it a reaping of the sorrow that I chose to sew ?

A toxic attitude , from the grapes of wrath , has it aged well in the bottles of time  . . . do I keep drinking up the past ?

Twisting around it's not the worthy that I find

Yet . . .

A finite year of imperfection it surely was
that indeed .

The clouds regurgitated  lightning
while booms reverberated
off the walls
Meanwhile I was feeling up my indifference
by holding a glass of soured milk and honey tasting like frustration that shattered from the pressures of despair

Your treasured memory flashes like a falling star from my mind's eternal sky

It creates cosmic time loops where spirits from the tomb gather

While old conversations, like white snow, falls

As time no longer flies
With such glitz and glamour

And whenever I see your face amongst others again in that time loop

As in, you swagger

I always remember why I still love you

For like the mystical everlasting sea

The wild magic of you and me
Together

Will forever flow and run free

Like a lone siren's love song once whispered

To try to hypnotize
Ulysses

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Foundation of the piece.

Those we love live forever, whenever we remember.

Friday thinks it's Saturday
Yet that day
Throws its hands in dismay
As it knows it's bound to
Sashay
In to Sunday's
Malaise