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What could be more simple
Than to write a poem about a daisy?
Petals,  pristine white
Surrounding  a heart of egg yoke gold
Proudly her head rears to the sky
Attracting bees and butterflies
No pretentious well shapes forms
But one of the oldest flowers known by man
Look, yes look at that simplicity of form
Un biased, un altered by the interference of man

Just a simple daisy
 Jul 2014 Beautiful Shame
BG
It comes without warning;
you can't choose whether
or not it happens to you.
It's a calling.
The act of someone needing you,
not someone else,
but you.
You are the hero they need
to save them,
before there's nothing left to save.
You stay up late trying to find ways to become this hero.
You and the caller talk as long as the caller wants.
While this might not be the ideal situation for the hero,
they do it anyways in order
to make sure the caller doesn't end.
The hero swoops in at every situation they can,
trying to convince the caller;
trying to say how much they're needed.
Many times,
they succeed.
The caller decides they want to see another day.
They want to stay strong.
That gives the hero relief,
and only pushes them to try harder.
But,
there always seems to be one final time
when the hero's too late.
This is the time where it's not only the caller's end,
but the hero's, too.
The hero hits zero;
the hero doesn't want to continue
when they know how they
could've prevented this.
And that's when the cycle restarts-
the only difference being the hero
is now the caller.
The new hero,
on the other hand,
unknowingly waits for the call;
the call that could save a hero's life.
I want you
To touch my silk skin
Until it turns sand paper rough
Run your hands down my spine
Until it curves into arch
Wrap your legs around mine
Until we become unison
Hold my unsteady body
Until it is still as the night
Hold it tightly
Until we wake to sunrise
I want you
To warm my lips with yours
Until they are no longer blue
Warm my heart with yours
Until it is no longer blue
I want you
I want you
I want you.
 Jul 2014 Beautiful Shame
J
4:26am
 Jul 2014 Beautiful Shame
J
The trees are sighing;
They are exhausted.
The wind chimes laugh and
The birds chirp.
But the trees are sighing because
They are exhausted.
Here I am in spite of things
lost within all the debris
drowning in the deep black sea
reaching for some sanity
reaching for, the clarity...

Shackled to my own body
I cant break free...
And I tried, yeah I tried
But these days are black...
And I'm blind, Here I cry
These tears wont dry
Here I am...
Broken by the night

There I am...
cleaning up the mess I've made
drowning deep...
in a sea of whiskey
smoke fogging up the clarity
pop this pill to ease insanity

Shackled to my own body
I cant break free...
And I tried, yeah I tried
But these days are black...
And I'm blind, Here I cry
These tears wont dry
Here I am...
Broken by the night
Beauty in a cloud of dust;
As easy to grasp, and to hold.
Yet undeniable. There she goes.

The mice in men that make us
Break pretty things
Just by touch.

I am a construction worker;
I could have fixed this.
Before it broke apart.

Perhaps I knew
I would only break it
Again.
I've measured her right
Little toe. It's exactly 16mm.
When she grinds her teeth in her
Sleep, just rub her jaw gently.
She'll stop without
Waking up.

If you read to her in bed, she'll
Watch you wide eyed from
Your shoulder; study your features
As you speak.
She'll stop you if you lose her
Between two words she doesn't
Quite understand.
She'll thank you for explaining.
She's worth it.

She's allergic to sugar, dairy, gluten
And eggs. I'll mail you a hundred
Recipes I've created for her.
Tell you all the tricks
So I know she'll eat.
You get used to the hassle.
She's worth it.

She's crazy about cartoons.
Let her watch them; seeing her
Laugh beats the game
Hundredfolds.
She'll love you for letting her
Read for hours and tell you about
The story.
She'll be so beautiful
When concentrating.
Give her space. Yours included.
She's worth it.

Let her grow.
Let her learn in her own time.
Let her be who she is.

She was weaker before me.
Now she's strong enough
To stand up and do the right thing,  
Though both our hearts broke
In the process.

If she goes, let her.
Help her out, send her off
With blessings.
Say to yourself I'd rather see her
Happy without me than
Unhappy here.
You'll
Mean it.

You'll cry your eyes out
And scream at the skies. Then
Thank God for every minute
You spent as her man.
They were worth it.
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