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I never expected to capture anything more
than a fragment of you
A phrase you might once have spoke in your sleep,
A twitch of your lips,
Or the curve of your spine when you stretched.

I soon realized that snippets of you were all about the place,
caught in the hedge by the back gate or reflected in the kettle.
The rings of coffee mugs on my old desk,
and loose change down the back of the sofa.
Even when I was away I still found you,
Sand in my shoes, folded corners in my books,

Even though you are gone,
I can see you in myself.
I speak with your words,  
I still see the world as you described it,
Full of wonder and curiosity,
But now tinged with bitterness.
Lyrics from your songs lurk in my mind,
And an aching emptiness where my heart once was.

I cannot forget you,
For I cannot escape you.
hmm
Who made you the centre of my universe?
Because it sure wasn't me.
Do you think that I want my life to revolve around you?
like i'm just a planet orbiting the sun,
A pair of jeans in the washing machine
Or flotsam in a whirlpool.
I don't suppose you'd understand,
How dizzy I get,
after a day around you
Or even a few moments.
How I can't keep my balance
And the world sort of tips
till' everything is inside out
backwards and all mixed up.
Except you.
because for some reason
the only stable thing
in this topsy-turvy world
is you.
not really sure how this came out.. critique welcome
Blaring sound,
Movement everywhere around,
No reasoning or resolution to be found
Anywhere.

With silence I'm bound,
No longer mentally wound,
Explanations to my emotions mound
Everywhere.

by Lady R.F ©2017
I caught a glimpse
Of the sun,
It was hiding
Behind selfish stubborn clouds,

These clouds were covering
The sunlight,
They looked like hooded cloaks -
Like dark scary shrouds.

I caught a glimpse
Of a magical rainbow,
It was hiiding
Behind very heavy hazy fog,

The thick murky fog
Obscured my visibility,
It stole all of the brightness;
A cruel, gloomy, colourless smog.

By Lady R.F ©2017
Your heart's a holster,  
your love the gun.
If I'm a wanted man
I'll not run.
If you're gonna shoot,  
best, shoot me down
by high noon
or the light of the moon,
or with a smile
..
Now *** ye filthy varmints, got a two o clock mosey.
 Jan 2017 Allen Robinson
L B
Khamir
 Jan 2017 Allen Robinson
L B
I let you go
to Philadelphia
I let you go
thirteen goin' on “life”
to your momma-- (God rest her-- and keep you
--from wherever she is)
to your father in Philly
outa the picture

Sheepish in the doorway of my classroom
back again
one last time--

Say good-bye, kid, to your short stay in Scranton
a town that can't rhyme
whose name falls over its own misery
No use for outsiders

“Where's your book?
Found your binder in the rain
Soggy protest to school's demands?
Of course it's yours
I checked, ya know”

"No way!"

Desk's been empty, three weeks now
Still, gotta ask
“Whacha doin?
Where ya been?”

“Khmir,
I'm sorry for your loss....”
Thirty seconds shares our grief
Thirty seconds for your future's-- all I got

“Listen to your teachers!
Do your work!
Please-- be okay?”

Khmir
in your wooly black coat-- like a bear
like a dare
shruggin and dancin in the doorway
of the “show”

Homework? Aint happenin'
But one paper, though
on why--
YOU-- should be president

and I almost vote for you
"Life" refers to a long prison sentence.

This poem is meant to be an indictment of the American
"prisons for profit" system that disproportionately targets African-American males.
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