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 Feb 2018 Wick
Misty Eyed
Golden hour always treats the earth
and it's inhabitants well,
giving every animal
a yellow and orange halo,
the plants and weeds
beads of light to adorn them
like jewelry,
and the people around you
a hazy glow.

m.e.
 Feb 2018 Wick
Misty Eyed
she
 Feb 2018 Wick
Misty Eyed
she
she has the moon in her eyes,
and the sun in her smile.
she is a walking contradiction,
with no real direction.
unsure of the world around her,
she hides behind clouds and thunderstorms.

she is the lightening and the sunshine,
the night and the day.
she might just let herself slip away.

she has the sun in her smile,
but the moon in her eyes.

m.e.
 Feb 2018 Wick
Vale Luna
(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.
Forward: from the victims perspective.
Backward: from the murderers perspective.

This TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE
 Feb 2018 Wick
Stxlle
A Muse
 Feb 2018 Wick
Stxlle
I want to write about someone's eyes
How they look at me or how they shine
The feelings and emotions they reveal
when they look into mine

I want to write about someone's hands
Their palms rough and filled with callus
How they make their way around my waist
with little thoughts of malice

I want to write about someone's hair
How it tangles when I brush through it with my fingers
as you lay on my chest with our legs intwinned together
Dreaming and hoping no eyes would linger

I want to write about someone's lips
The way they wait for mine to come closer
when they touch, I get a faint taste of wine
our bodies drunk but our thoughts are sober

I want to write about someone
I'll imprint their name on paper
I'll write for the whole world to know
You were lead to me by an Almighty Creator

Maybe soon I'll find out who that someone is
and maybe soon I can write about all this
Well... yeah
 Feb 2018 Wick
Ira Desmond
The goat didn’t understand
the significance of the bell around

his neck,
smelled

the sunlight hitting
the dewy grass

as he opened his eyes each morning,
looked

at his handlers, the humans,
and thought of them

as his protectors,
took

a kinetic joy
in bounding through open fields

among sage and purple wildflowers,
kicking

up dirt,
and taking naps

in the shade of thick cypress trees
on hot, dry afternoons.

One day,
a rope was tied

around his neck,
and he was led

to a place he had never
been before, and

into a situation
he had never

considered
before.

The goat was tied
to a tree

in a sunken, gray,
muddy place.

He was surrounded by
a throng of faces.

He recognized
some of them—

humans he had known
and smelled,

sometimes kicked,
sometimes licked.

Some of the faces
smoked cigarettes

and sat in silence.
Others talked excitedly.

Others drank
and sang.

All of them were waiting
for something,

but the goat did not
understand what.

And then he
felt a hand

grab onto one of his
horns. Its grip was firmer

than the goat remembered
the grip of a human hand could be.

And then he felt an arm
around his back,

it was almost a hug,
but more resolute in its

intentionality—
wholly,

horrifyingly,
out of character

from what the goat had
understood about

his handlers.
The goat now

realized that
something was wrong.

He did not
want to be in this position

any longer. He
began struggling,

kicking more
and more violently,

but still he felt more arms
and hands

restraining him—
pinning him down

in spite of
his protestations.

The goat began to
cry out

for help, for God,
for one of his humans—

a final plea
to the universe

to come and rectify
the situation.

And then the goat felt
a cold, hard edge

pressed against his throat.
Wild-eyed,

he looked up,
and there he saw

his human,
the one who had

fed him
and cared for him

for as long as
he could remember.

The man ******
his arm

and yanked the goat’s head
back,

and the goat felt a shocking,
slicing pain.

He could sense that warm fluid was
draining

down his neck, could
tell something

irreparable had happened
to his body. His

eyes darted around,
looking at all of

the unflinching, cold faces
surrounding him.

Up until
this moment,

the goat hadn’t
considered

the possibility
that the ones whom he

loved
so dearly

and who loved
him

so dearly
could

betray him
like

this.
 Feb 2018 Wick
Traveler
LOVE POEM
 Feb 2018 Wick
Traveler
I will love you
From here now on
Unconditionally
Right or wrong
I will share
Your secret pain
I will ride
Your hell bound train
Down and out
Out of work
I will love you
Beyond your worth
I will love it
When you smile
I will love you
For a while
'Til the end
Where love flies free
I will love
Both you and me!
Traveler Tim
"Happy Thanksgiving"
 Jan 2018 Wick
caroline
i don't want an apology
i don't need a half hearted smile
because you feel obligated
i don't want your pity
i don't need you to feel sorry for me
because believe it or not
being hurt isn't new to me
i just want a "thank you"
that's all
for loving you
when you least deserved it
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