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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
Welcome to midnight
Screams when I open my eyes
Predestined isolation
It's tearing my lungs apart

Screams invented storms
Welcome to real life
Time doesn't matter
This place was built to be left

Path of revenge
I can't force myself
To forget upon command

Relentlessly the strangers are grinning
Silent quest for the golden boy
Glowing in the dark
Relentless
When does the
champ know that  
he doesn’t have  
It anymore?
Is it after that
first loss to a
*** he should  
have knocked out in
the second round?
Is it when his body
doesn't do what
his mind tells it
to do?  

His punches are
slow.
His legs are
weak.
He once was one
of the greatest.
Iron Mike, they
called him.

He loses to an
overhyped cute
boy with little skills,  
and blonde curls.
It was brutal to watch.

He was king of
the jungle in those
early Brooklyn days.
Old lions don’t just
wander off and die
alone.  
They get killed and
eaten by  
younger lions.

After this charade,
I hope the champ
hangs up his
gloves for good.
Here's a link to my youtube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved.
Great lines, something to think about (Edward Thomas)
Woke up to the rain and the wind beating on my window pale,
Yet I thought of getting dressed and going there.
A subway system, so far not yet up to standards,
A job like mine, no one need to hurry too
A mindset like mine, meant for me to lay low
during the northeaster...rain and wind
Poor yet full of pride, I am the servant Queen,
Yesterday, I struggled to maintain my sanity
Due to working conditions: at the workplace
I have been feuding for years. Nothing changes
not even an added penny, before its death,
More work, more stress, no respect  
Night supervisors, penciling  
or rather maneuvering into the darkness
at six am. A street crowded with overturn bins,
Flooded streets, with mudded running water
Mother of Nature, another dangerous disaster?
You meaner than corvid and Alaska,
I am the servant Queen, poor, yet full of pride:
I am fed up with others trying to take me for a ride
Sometimes, you need a break from a bad situation
Never berate yourself for giving expression to your emotions.
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;(Edward Thomas) line
I planned to stick, to my believes, nothing will change,
I will always be the servant Queen, as longs as them reign:
~ following “A Simple Poem”~ (1)

But of course, we reference revelations,
for our brief self-description are guises,
meant to hide, meant to impress, reveal
little, enhance our mystery, preserve our
secrecy. expose and hide simultaneously
within our mid-of-night aura mystiques

Safe behind the curtain, we wizards speak
in voices and tongues, giving up our innermost everything in verse, write of our blessings and our curses, holding  little back while we give ourselves away, hint by hinting, writ by writing, a series of
+++++++’s

I choose, I chose, to dress my chess pieces
in a clear varnish, **** the consequences,
sail towards the torpedoes, heading direct
to meet your eyes, giving up my forest
tree by tree, poem by poem, a leaf and
a branch, only tinkering and fussing like a new parent over each new virtual birthing,

and then once tidied,
once spent,
my secrets unconcealed,
we wonder quick if each
puzzle when connected
to its predecessor is 
understood
as a tiny pointilisme dot,
a speck
and that you are wise enough to
comprehend how each speck,  
lives only unique in its
conjunction,
only tandem-with both the one
nearest and the ones dabbed a decade
long ago, and when you connect  
my dots, I stand before you completely
a full and a naked folio,
one book of a single reveal,
the sum of my totality,
an addition of many integers,  
summing up to 1

So,

should we pass by each other,
our eyes will pierce, each wrinkle,
solving the equation of who we are…
a single human, readily identifiable,
total recognition, via the reconnaissance
of our letterered footsteps
(1) https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4917327/a-simple-poem/


12:50am
Nov. 20
in the year twenty twenty four
(a poem in Haiku and Senryu)

Draw a stick figure
future - diminished
and chaos ransomed.

Paint the landscape
with the sweltering glare
of global warming.

Add micro-plastic
and forever chemical
flavorings to taste.

Come share this
with me - let kisses heal and
soft whispers inflame.

Some locks need two keys
to open, some heavens can
be reached by mortals.
.
.
A song for this:
All Gone Away by The Style Council
Locks that require two keys are called ‘Dual Custody’ locks. They’re most common for bank deposit boxes.
Blade cuts through the dusk,
Tulips bow with fleeting grace,
Shadows stretch to meet the night—
Silent petals fall.
Writing
is but
an escape
for the soul

Freeing
our passions
making
— us whole

(Dreamsleep: November, 2024)
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