some people's footsteps are loud
they want everyone to know that they have entered
or perhaps they have no reason to hide
They strike the ground first with their heel
you can always hear them approach

but mine?
my footsteps are silent
I glide across without a sound
no one needs to know that I am here
I have reason to hide
I tread first with the pads of my feet
you will never hear me approach

I used to draw on my arm all the time
Nothing big or elaborate
Just a triangle
One triangle
Then I wouldn’t hear the end of it
Everyone complaining
Ink poisoning
Future punk
What’s next, a motorcycle?
So I stopped
I stopped drawing that little triangle on my wrist
Right above my pulse point
But with it
I
Stopped
L I v I n g.
A triangle was supposed to be the strongest shape
It was supposed to make me strong
But I wasn’t even strong enough
To let it stay

I don't love you
But I love you so much
I am trying

Some days, it’s a hunger
a deep pull from the stomach,
not for food, not for water,
but for something unnamed,
something just out of reach.

It’s in the way the morning air feels electric,
like possibility itself,
how the sun spills over cracked sidewalks,
touching everything,
saying, Look. Be here. Want more.

It’s in the ache of laughter
that lasts too long,
in the way music grips the ribs
and shakes loose something tender.
It’s the way fingers linger
when hands almost meet.

And yes, some days, the hunger fades,
buried under the weight of routine,
but then
a scent, a sound, a sudden rush of memory
and there it is again,
the pull, the ache, the craving
for more of this,
this fragile, fleeting, impossible thing.

This life.

If I jump will I take flight
If I fall will I be rain
If I ***** will I wake up
If I don't know then who's to say

Kindness

Be a little kinder today
Offer more patience
Give a little more
Love a little deeper
Smile a little bigger
Hug once more
Appreciate what you have
Let those feelings lift the world out of darkness
Keep the faith
Kindness has power
Believe

My God,
My Lord,
My All,
Friends,
Knowledge,
Relations,
Wealth
Everything,
God All,
My All,
Lord All.
SPS

I stayed too long,
trying to find,
the person lost,
within your mind.

My colleagues and family expect me to act young,
My mind is okay with it
But my body refuses,
It says,"Act your age."
3/4/2025

~~~ Act I ~~~

Behold the queen.
Drenched in such pathetic,

Luxury.

Behold the king.
Soaking in such unauthentic,

Company.


Have you seen the jack?
He been doin somethin, shady, in the,

Back.

But don't ya worry there's, no plan,
To get, caught, in such synthetic,

Conditions.


Do you feel so esteemed?
With your trifles and titles,
And what's real and what's, not?
Do you feel esteemed?
With your scandals and secrets,
Such typical tricks.


Behold!
There's the, Ace.
Look at his, pretty face.
Absorbing that,

Prestige.

But look at that, glacial, gaze.
He got something to,

Say?


Oh I see that, glacial, gaze.
Lookin at somethin you ain't ever gonna,

See.


Behold, the Ace!
With a disappointed look on his, pretty face.
Looks like he ain't gonna,

Say.


Do you feel so esteemed?
With your trifles and titles,
And what's real and what's not?
Do you feel so esteemed?
With your scandals and secrets,
You're making me sick!


Behold the queen,
Plotting with her pretty,

Ladies.

Behold the king,
Oblivious to such unauthentic,

Company.


Oh, behold!
There's jack and the Ace!
Ace, you gonna put him in his, place?
Don't ya got somethin to, say?
Nah, you ain't gonna,

Say.


You know he's their son anyway.
You wouldn't wanna scare him away.
You wouldn't do that to his,

Face.


His FILTHY!
SICK!
Stupid, face...


That ain't the,

FACE,

of a Jack!

That's the face of a...

SPOILED BRAT!



~~~ Act II ~~~

BEHOLD THE QUEEN!
Who MURDERS her husband,
And spoils her rich little son!
BEHOLD THE ACE!
He got SOMETHIN to say!
But he ain't gonna,

Say.


Just look at that, glacial gaze.
Starin at somethin he ain't ever gonna,

See.


HEY, ACE!
Why don't ya TELL jack,
Ya don't like his shady business!?
Ya scared he ain't gonna, care?
Ya scared mama gonna,

Care?


HEY ACE, HEY ACE!
That ain't the FACE of the Ace!
Not with that glacial, gaze.
You gonna keep starin at somethin you ain't ever gonna,

See?


BEHOLD THE QUEEN!
OH SO ESTEEMED!
LOOK AT HER DRENCHED IN SUCH PATHETIC, LUXURY!
OH, BEHOLD THE KING!
HE DROWNED IN SUCH UNAUTHENTIC, COMPANY!

BEHOLD THE JACK!
DOIN SOMETHIN SHADY IN THE BACK!
HEY, ACE!
You gonna put him in his place!?
You just gonna WATCH this corruption,
Let em all feel so,

Esteemed?

Gonna let a mother ****** her husband,
And spoil her rich little son!?
You gonna let him GET AWAY,
With his DANGEROUS, fun!?

OH, THEY FEEL SO ESTEEMED!
WITH THEIR MURDERS AND TRIFLES,
AND WHAT'S REAL AND WHAT'S NOT!
DO YOU FEEL SO ESTEEMED!?
Workin for his mother, that,

*****?


HEY ACE, HEY ACE!
I get it, you're right!
HEY ACE, HEY ACE!
It's above your,

Paygrade.


Hey Ace, you're right.
It's above your,

Paygrade.

But why ya gotta keep, starin,
At somethin you ain't, ever gonna,

See?


Just let that jack be,
He ain't what ya wanna,

See.


Oh Ace, it's above your, paygrade.
You know he's their son, anyway.
So you just gonna stare, with that, glacial, gaze?
At somethin you ain't ever gonna,

See?

Better hope that, mama, don't,

See.

what if you knew
not only the poet
but also the monster?

would you like me enough
to keep reading?

tawny leaf-littered
autumn's cold chill
amber sun, filtered
one tree, one hill

smoky-water rains
water scented earth
heart-loss pains
worms unearth'd

bristled seeds drift
sunset winds, rest
fluff and dust admidst
a heaving chest

sun-warmth falter
cloud coats gold
body upon an altar
everything turns cold

I kiss the air between us, a breeze that lingers,
tracing soft patterns on your skin.
A tiny scar catches my eye—
a story I wish I'd been part of,
and suddenly, I want to protect every piece of you.

I study you like poetry written in touch,
my lips trailing every verse.
I am yours, entirely, undeniably—
and, darling, you have exquisite taste.

Let's talk
Soult to Soul
Beyond the lips
Over the eyes
After the touches
Without the beliefs
Only with a soul
I walked into you
Gave you my soul
Saw your purity
And your shadow
You feel free now
I feel like you too
We will never see
Eye to eye down
I left you cause I knew
You left me to let me know

The thoughts keep coming back
The ones that force me to remember
A few years ago
I had to endure
Your sharp teeth
Among my delicate flesh
Bruising my skin
When I kept telling you to stop it
When I kept trying to push you off of me
Screaming
Crying
Because I didn't want that
I didn't want you,
My step-sibling,
To give me hickies
Around the age of 9
I was scared
But you wouldn't budge
You just continued to create them
As if it was normal

You'd try to make me hide them
As if you painted black marks
On a board
And tried covering it over
With white
Every foundation we tried to use
Wouldn't be able to work
Because it was too light for me
And was dried out
And I would have to cover it
With my hair

I would have to live with the fact
That no matter what I try
To bring attention to
The hickies
You left on my face and neck,
No one would believe me
Or do anything about it
There was absolutely no discipline for you

Terribly tired of being your toy.

In stillness hush
A Dreamers realm
Vivid the stars
Guiding lights
In sweet serene
Two spirits will meet

Beauty lies beneath.
Wait for it to emerge.
New shoots, rich earth.

Part the foliage.
Give them more light.
A chance to fight.

Simply crouch.
Dip your head.
See beneath.

Beauty lies beneath
the bleak.

Ash Wednesday will fall on
or exactly same moment as
Trinity Sunday & Cinderella
will not be sufficient on her
own to brush up all the dust
in Tel Aviv if America thinks
to obliterate Iran’s domestic
nuclear plant’s. The Persian
Gulf will be turned into a lake
similar to the Red Sea, while
all the puppet Arab regimes
of east of Arabia will be 100%
dark roasted like vile Robusta.

Fermer ses yeux si fort,
Que je peux discerner des couleurs,
Des arabesques, des tâches, puis l'incolore.
Ce soir, ce mythe se fait peu prometteur...

Rouverts comme deux portes maudites,
Mes pupilles ne regardent que la lumière
De l'étoile levante et hypocrite:
"Ah ! Quel caractère !"

Pas un rêve ne m'a émancipé.
La lune n'est d'aucun réconfort,
Mais le soleil a bien plus de torts.

Nuls cauchemars
Ne réparent
Ma lucidité...

there was a teddy bear he had a barbecue
invited all his friends there quite a few.

a little fluffy cat and a chimpanzee
a soldier in a uniform very smart was he.

there was a little owl and parrot to
gathered all together for the barbecue.

teddy did the cooking burgers in a bun
everyone was happy having lots of fun.

when the party ended they all went away
and thanked the little bear for such a lovely day

The drama in my head comes and goes.

The flower needs rest,
so winter tucks it beneath the earth,
letting it sleep until spring.

The sun needs rest,
so the clouds and rain embrace it,
shielding its warmth for another day.

The moon has seen everything,
but it never speaks.
It just lingers—
half-lit, half-lost,
dragging tides and secrets in its wake.

I asked it once,
"Did he ever mean it?"
"Will the ache dissolve like salt in water?"
"Why do I still dream in his voice?"
The moon only blinked,
a quiet refusal wrapped in silver.

Nights like this,
I fold myself into the dark,
press my ear against the silence,
listening for answers
that do not come.

Maybe love is just a sky full of questions.
Maybe healing is learning
to stop waiting for the moon to reply.

I can't **** this pain,
Not with a knive or pencil,
Not with foul words or soft lips,
Not with caring hands or a fist.

It is the pain of a love
Where once more Cupid missed.

Will you follow?
Will you allow yourself love?
Would you take my hand and stand?
Stand with me, hand in hand
Walk towards uncertainty
Lend me your trust
As I lend you mine
Entrust me with your heart
For I will cherish as my own
It is a risk I know
I plead you not fear
For I’ll give you my heart
And then you’ll know

I
wish to
make you proud,
but its never going to
be completed because I'll never-
ill never ever be enough, will I?

In quiet woods, where gentle breezes play,  
And time drifts softly like the flowing stream,  
I ponder on the fleeting light of day,  
And cherish whispers of a tender dream.  

Though seasons change and shadows stretch their hands,  
Yet in the heart, a steadfast ember glows;  
For love, like ancient oaks on fertile lands,  
Endures the storm, and in its stillness grows.  

One day, beneath the arch of twilight skies,  
A wanderer shall seek what once was mine;  
And in that moment, when the spirit flies,  
The bonds of earth shall fade, and stars align.  

Then I shall rise, as nature’s breath returns,  
In every leaf, in every songbird’s call;  
For in the soul where deep affection burns,  
There lies a light that conquers even fall.  

“Rejoice!” it cries, “for love shall never cease;  
In memory’s embrace, we find our peace.”

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

        Why Do Widows Give Me Their Late Husbands’ Clothes?

When old men die their widows give me their clothes
(The old men’s clothes; not the widows’; let’s not get weird)
Nice pullover shirts, expensive blazers, everything goes
And ties to the 1970s geared

I am as Bob Newhart lost in an age
Of tattered tees and designer sneaks
Hardly the attire of a wise old sage
One of the last sartorial antiques

When old men die their widows give me their clothes
I look quite natty in them, I suppose

(The old men’s clothes, not the widows; let’s not get weird)