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Abraham Jun 30
The fallen tree trunk
meditates a thousand years.
Abraham Jun 23
Alan laughed through his cigar
released the bow string
the arrow shot into the clouds
and vanished.

Without surprise
he returned to the fire
letting the bow dangle
from his finger.

   The sound of water boiling reminded him
        of a morning in Berlin
the kitchen
      bread, cheese, jam
by the window
       Judith making coffee on the hob
patterns of blue wool
        about her waist.

Somehow coffee had always tasted like burnt almonds since
   though Miho sent him enough green tea from Japan
   to last several lifetimes.

Green tea in a green forest.
Alan shut his eyes, let the breeze touch his cheeks
and smiled.

“I’ve a question.”
“Will you marry me?
“Why not?”
“You’re too young. And I’m God.”
Abraham Jun 23
in the joy of struggle
a backpack
Abraham Jun 23
In exchange for scrambled eggs
I gave you
my bonsai.
Abraham Jun 23
From this shore
here’s what’s mine -
a cloud
pulled across the sun
whisper in my ear
sleep pushed away
the universe
hot, cold
mine to turn
stay in
this moment
sky becomes
Abraham Jun 23
When I was seven or eight,
I was made to stand on one leg
for kicking my plimsoll
onto the school roof.

There’s the sticky crystalline tarmac of the playground,
white lines,
WHOOSH my leg flies out,
SMACK of contact with the ball,
my plimsoll tumbling in-slow-motion-through-the-air,
disbelief when I realize
where its ended up.

I wonder,
if it happened today,
would my talent be spotted?
“Hey son, that’s some kick you’ve got on you
would you like to play for Liverpool?”
Instead of a teacher deciding
that standing on one leg outside his classroom for an hour
would be a good old lesson in self-control.

The shame did teach me -
to reign myself in,
hold back,
fear authority,
and repercussions,
hide my power
and joy,
question my very existence,
never experience the ecstasy of releasing
my heart, soul and ***** into a woman.

I guess I can’t blame it all on that teacher,
they all got away with weird **** in those days,
– once a boy in my class was made to sit under the teacher’s desk
and called “Dog” for dog-earing a page in his book –
I wonder how that kid’s doing
right now.

Just for fun,
I stand on one leg,
wobble about a bit,
steady myself
feel the power and joy
trapped in my chest,
the urge to run, leap
a thousand miles per hour
thunder through the stratosphere
screaming as loud as I possibly can
Abraham Mar 11
I see you sleep
want to lift you up, say
I will love forever
every detail of your construction
cheek that stretches as it rests against your arm
beard painted with such devotion
shoes that peek from beneath a cracked robe
those shoes are attached to feet
feet attached to a heart
and a brain
all of them asleep
nothing in you thinks or feels or cries
or sees me
despite all the nights I’ve stood here
on the other side of this window.
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