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My slanguage
keeps the fire hot
my feet against the coals

My slanguage
what the critics hate
new venom to extol

My slanguage
whether read or sung
its message still the same

My slanguage
seeding my rebirth
— lost within the rain

(Dreamsleep: November, 2024)
Part of a person is what is inside,
Build in your children character and discipline,
So that wherever they go they leave their mark.
22/11/2024
She led me to the waterfront
I cast a skimming stone
three bounces secured true love that day
seeds of future lives were sown

we married in a small town church
two rings blessed with a kiss
a baby was born the following spring
three bounces gave us bliss

alas, our bairn was taken after three short years
from this it became hard to recover
so we walked back to the waterfront
three bounces, this time, cast by my lover

in the years that passed, five children were raised
each one filled with joy and laughter
the first born was always spoke of and rejoiced
as much as the ones that came after

we often led them to the waterfront
they cast skimming stones, perfecting the art
my love and I smiled with pride
three bounces was just the start

The poor thing got
lost in the escape.
And she was still hungover
from the childhood terror.
Her personality was
ruined--redolent with
the first flowers of
madness.

She made a pretend
world, full of delusions.
A house of cards that
was laden with
lunacy, her insanity
became safe and dependent
on her never taking
responsibility for her
actions--she was a
pawn for the adage,
Hurt people Hurt people,
like Blanche from
A Streetcar Named Desire,
and
Don Quixote,
Her world crumbled and she climbed
into the abyss,
when she looked
deeply into the
mirror of reality.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRhyjqbFrGI
standing in the middle of some vast, empty space—the kind of ocean or plain where you can see the edge of a dream in all directions

and it opens to you, and you let it in—womblike—everything around you is meaningful, whether it’s beautiful or horrible or sublime

it must be written above and left to fall as the wettest raindrop, tempting fate, and fate retaliated—again there was light, and again there was darkness, a new day
~
I cast my net
                  into the tributary

and release into you, a seasonal swim,

I give to you a mother's color,
        as you recite
        infant hymns,

                    you're a bleeder
on the days sunfire meters out its origin,
                    you're my river

free and clear from the grip

      of anchorage,

                         my river,

drifted on to wherever
                       moon wishes glister

~
  Nov 2024 You've Been Timetabled
Zee
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