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  Jun 2017 Tinker
Mateuš Conrad
in terms of talking?
                       rhetoric.
   in terms of couting?
arithmetic.
  ergo?
        rhetoric = arithmetic;
i.e. the unconscious
     "counting"
   of words...
             or let's just assume
that someone is
not so much persuading
you to prompt talking,
but that the talking
   is prompt immune
       and that you
simply talk for the sake
of talking, in that implosive
guise of per se;
since the letters reach
only to the status of
the 26 all-encompassing,
you never really bother
keeping an arithmetic count
on the number of words
used...
     nonetheless,
       beyond arithmetic,
in terms of using words,
therefore beyond rhetoric,
you enter the realm
of "dialectics", i.e. diacritic
   application.
  Jun 2017 Tinker
Finley in Despair
I am so hungry
I would lick your
***** cutlery clean
and my eyes still
won't adjust to the
changing light conditions  

I'll also be offering my
services every evening
this week because
I am absolutely
  strapped

No I won't be
your rent boy
but I will
clean your boots
and wash your car
...and sleep with your sister

You see, pride can't
diminish
when it's already
gone
so I'll be your masseuse
I'll dry clean your thong

If you can't
reach me via phone
I'm either dead
or making progress
feel free
to leave a message
  Jun 2017 Tinker
Chriselle Correia
Amidst the chaos
and confusion thrives magic
and dark illusions
  Jun 2017 Tinker
Mary-Eliz
I see you there
suspended for a time
between the shadow
and the light.

You look pale
but peaceful,
in a dream state.

I rest awhile,
a shallow sleep,

then I awake

knowing…

without words
my mind whispers

it’s time

I gently wipe your lips,
brush a stray hair
from your forehead.
It’s all I know to do.

Then I sing
a cherished lullaby
hoping you hear me
hoping it wraps you in love
as my arms wrapped
around you
as a child.

I hold your hand,
kiss your forehead.
In that instant I see
and feel all you’ve been
all that is you

tiny wrinkled infant
delightful, smiling six-month old
curious toddler
proud school age
struggling teen
loving adult

realizing
we're losing all of these,
all that you've been
all that is you

then

I feel your spirit leave…

for that brief moment
I’m overcome with a calm
I can’t describe.

A gift rare and precious –

as I was there
when you entered the world
I was with you
when you left.
     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~        

"The butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough."  
Rabinadrath Tagore
We lost our son to a brain tumor. He fought bravely and determinedly for seven years, enduring two surgeries, radiation, Gamma knife "surgery", chemotherapy and clinical trials. He never lost his sunny smile or determination. He only let go when he knew it was time, slipping into unconsciousness shortly after his two brothers (his best friends) arrived to say goodbye. He remained in that suspended state for two days. On the third day the four of us gathered for dinner and shared thoughts about him and our life with him. We cried, we laughed, we shared memories. Later that night he let go. I will always believe, being the caring and generous person he was, that he heard us talking and knew that, as hard as it would be, we would be okay.
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