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My family life's a sham
We're all  walking on eggshells
There's no bond when you're acting
To keep it all together
One big happy family

This is why
To escape my reality
I turn to my literary haven
A book there for any mood I feel
Momentarily causing me to forget
My seriously  messed up life

The gift of a good book
Is better than
any drug out there
It ***** you in *and

Suddenly you're immersed in it
Forgetting the pain  and  sadness
of your own pathetic existence

The love and sincerity  warms you
Causes you to dream and wish; sigh
Whilst the pain and anguish
You can relate to
Never once in an enticing novel do you
Think about the real world around you.

Such is the beauty of a good story
It acts as the perfect medicine
To remedy the hurt in your life.
//The answer to why I read so much//
The starry lit clouds
shy and shinny
captured on the
nearby cherry tree branches

reflected your Apollo locks glitter
you pressed me on a barren trunk
your torso became a burning tree
trying to cool in a pond full of lava

Your tongue played rose~***
mary magic ~on white satin hills.
My back hurt a bit, scratched,
the blouse finger blown, open.

And then. . . the real tempo started to begin. . .
~~~~~~~~~~
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic lover
Rational choice is up*
to*
existential
tingling
emotional chaos;

Assumptions
made upon
old
patterns
droning
the titilating
madam's
major day --
on general.

Aspergers Exclusive
Beautiful Mind
I'll better
be silent
on this one..
Today I comanded:
Sit dog!
And she did!

Surprise, surprise -
The doors were
free for us to made
two prominent steps
out of appartament
into the
bright new
opportunity
l
acted like a leader of the pack;
behaved proudly, dignified,
jumping two steps at a time

The dog's velocity was
surrpasing our knees
like a fast speeded glance:

She was upfront,
paw knocking on the glass door
Tongue and fangs were eager
to run free in the wild

I wanted to chill her bear barkings
cute yawning squiqs
. . . uwauu . . .
uwwauuuuws

Respectfully
Ignoring
The
Hectic
Situation
On being ask why I waste my time writing poetry.*

A poet lives three times:
once remembering,
once writing,
once being read.

Three lives unfolding
the genetic code
of the soul.

Not such easy
lives to create,
but they produce
a map of memory
that vindicates
your existence
and may lead strangers
to small, keen joys
they never imagined.

Modest delights
keep hearts alive.

  ~mce
 Sep 2015 Aztec Warrior
RW Dennen
I unscrewed my belly button and my **** fell off
 Sep 2015 Aztec Warrior
RW Dennen
Soft sweet meadow
radiating its breath of life;
sounding its serenity
in echoes of the mind's eye

Living in this flat land
lay plush
in wild, multicolored-flowery-pockets in greenery
blankets "Sweet Meadow"  with fresh quickened
fragrance

And by our bedroom window
with a summer night's soft evening breeze
mellow cheeeping can be heard from way way down below
seemingly luring us to...

.. "OPEN WIDER THE WINDOW...
              ...AND LISTEN!!
Chant dear chorus
as violinist in "Cricket Suits"
join this cantor
that swings with rhythm
with wheezing sounding bugs, AH HUMMING!!
and an intermission of
Cha  Cheep,  Cha  Cheep
that breaks the nocturnal entomological singing
with ephemeral intermissions

Be bewitched by brillance as
tunes fly and z i n g
their little
whistle
songs so sweet a talent
unseen
little bugs sweetly sing
their little
tale of talent
in "Soft Sweet Meadow"

Comforted by vibrating frequencies
the air is electrical clasping
our good-inner child
as this meadow
unfolds its truth
being beneficial
to us all

We journey not too far
for this field draws us
to its delightful *****
We irresistibly suckle on its daytime scenic eye-filling foliage
later eliciting dreams made of peaceful slumber

Cha Cheep,  Cha Cheep and good night...
OH YEAH, THE HYPNOTIC AND RHYTHMIC SWAY OF NATURE
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