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 Nov 2016 Adam Childs
Poetic T
I thought he liked me, saying all the
right words into my ears. how was I
to know this was but a rehearsal what
he had acted out so many times.

"You know your my first,
"Your special to me, your the star shining on my life.

I feel for every serpents lie that slithered
from his mouth on to my lips as we kissed.
He was like soft velvet on my soul, he knew
where to hold me, I quivered under each caress.

I was hypnotized by those words that i thought
were only captured in the pools of my eyes.
Later to find out that so many had drowned in
depression from those stones he thrown so many times.

I released my innocence, my virtue to the weavings
of spoken gestures of moonlit drives. Now I stare in to
the night sky, only seeing the darkness.  He quenched
the light when that night was over they were extinguished.

The night was amazing in my mind so gentle, i was
scared of what would be after. Be he reassured me I
was the only one. I admit gullibility that he wove in
to my mind heart and soul, it was over and I was woman.

I could still smell him on my sheets, and I slept content.
Or so i thought, where I had released myself to him when
I walked the halls of college I was an apparition of no
solid worth. I spoke to him, smiles and all.

He ignored me, I asked why? "You were weak, last week,
I learnt he always tried to fulfil this gesture on a Sunday.
In tears as all around either giggled in disrespect,
others were just opened mouth and whispers spread.

I had a few of his trophies, he called us that.
They came up to me bruises barley visible but were seen.
Each a weekend of serpents words, tears were each
wiped on soft tissues as his misdeeds bleed.

But one who was of lower as esteem as most of us,
born of an affliction that she had since birth.
She was the strongest of us all, and she wove a
tale of a conquest that was his inevitable last.

She was woven into his lies, but he never listened to
her truths, moments became blurred and what was
kept for a reason of thought and of others safety
was given away on serpents lingering breath.

But once she had faded from his thought after
just one night, she had spoken to him in word
and he didn't listen to her warning of word.

Others had heard her mentioning of what he
had thought was his score, but friends of others
has spelled out what he had done, and he cried.

Karma has a way of weaving its ways to help
those of its need. He had tainted the wrong
girl no fault of his silken woven words....

He now is sullen and looked upon with frown,
for he stamped so many with his words.
But now all others see is the words of ***.....
I do not have much time but I just want to say that I love each of you all in Christ bye.
the ears
which savored
Bach and Mozart
Beethoven and Brahms
Handel and Hayden
operatic voices
as angels
lifting up to the
very thone of
God
Wagner
Puccini
Verde
Roccini
and
Bizet
.
.
.

deafening
cr­ashes
of kamikaze
coming down
on ships
all around him
.
.
.

the boom
of his cannons
as they shot
them
.
.
.
down

now dead
hearing only
a shushing sound

the inside of a shell


the eyes
which beheld
The Great Books
loved the work of
Mark Twain
and
read
voraciously

loved art

and saw
The Bomb
being
dropped
on
Enewetak
Atol
.
.
.

now becoming
dull with
diffused
light
.
.
.


body
wizened
and
shaped
like
a

?­

I am
watching
as a brilliant
beautiful
man

SLOWLY

DIES*

pieces
of
me
fall
in­to
the
grave

as

well

.
.
.



SoulSurvivor
(C) 10/11/2016
I love my mom & dad.
I'm going to bed now but I'll be reading
tomorrow morning God willing.

I REALLY DO LOVE YOU.

♡ Cathy
 Nov 2016 Adam Childs
Mike Essig
The ones I loved,
who made me what I am,
dead or dying.

Jim Harrison,
Leonard Cohen,
the other Saints
of word and song.

Death spreads like ink
from an octopus.

Not so long now.

I'm running short
of things to be.

With each passing,
my broken heart
breaks again.
 Nov 2016 Adam Childs
wordvango
parade then serenade me wordless foolish
brash then coyly fervently shush
me with that smile
fit me into the folds of silkish
flesh the  fuzz of peaches cushiness
brush me with eyelashes
feathered
long
like traces of
heaven flash
hold me with velvet
inside
arms of holding lastness
caution me with whispers scold
me with rushing cries
Have you ever been madly in love?

The old man broke my reverie.

On the long faded green bench white with bird droppings
he was peering at me through his silver grey beard
looking oddly out of place in that college squire park
where only the dreamers at the prime of youth
would sit between classes to exchange love notes
and steal a kiss when the passion couldn't be reined in.

Have you ever been madly in love? he repeated,
and then as if growing impatient by my silence
mumbled, pausing between words,
like they stung him like thorns
it extracts a price been paying all my life
living with a void no other woman could fill
a commitment that breeds only pain
yet makes me insanely boastful
of being madly in love.


It was recess hour and the benches were being filled up.

How many, I wondered, would still hold hands
when the classes are over.
 Nov 2016 Adam Childs
wordvango
you start me off winter cold
as shivers then good as golden sundrops warm
me up as tea leaves swirl me as I used to laugh
good as staying under warm covers all afternoons
what day can be as this besides what I have
with tearing through the tv guide  when
the sun is low in the distance and the day begins
early and ends about five
not time to drive around nor time to save you
 Nov 2016 Adam Childs
Mike Essig
for Leonard Cohen
RIP*

That holy voice that undid the buttons of dresses
whispered them off shoulders onto the floor;
songs that celebrated the pellucid sky of Greece;
the dark confessions of hustlers and junkies;
Abraham poised with the knife of obedience;
the desperate Hallelujah of broken kings;
razors in the hands of beautiful losers;
generous assignations in dingy hotels;
the singular Glory of the god of Art;
spoken in the minor chords of death;
celebrating the discordant mystery of life;
danced to the very end of love, never missing a step.
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