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I'll craft you an arrow with a poem-poison tip,
Forge you a grammar-sword to hold at your hip,
Ride into battle proud to be by your side,
Wordsmith a cave where I’ll take you to hide.

Give me a word, and I’ll light it ablaze,
I have a million wonderful ways,
Wrath bullets launching from literature-guns,
Shiny and sassy and loaded with puns.

Seed me with words, and I’ll birth them for you,
Transformed and ready, and scathing, and true,
I am your friend, your protector, your muse,
I will comeback, and attack, and confuse.
Watch their belly
their dying eyes
know all my talks of wisdom
are my escapes in disguise!

If I had littlest shame
and a belief in the claim
I'm humane

I would not have let them stray
but killed them with the bullet's spray!

If I can't help them live
if their numbers I don't contain
if letting them be there is no gain
why not **** the stray with the bullet's spray?

I move around with a bowl of rice
small hand small bowl teeming mouth
in the blind belief
if I try

*some of them may still not die!
bitter white pills
stolen from the nurses office
crushed on the rocks,
merciless shores
of my craggy, gnashing teeth.

swallow it down
with purple liquid and
gag at the crude
astringent taste
like a fine powder
of dandelion leaf
burdock root
twisted hell.

floating down the hallway,
words jumbled and crumpled
thrown away paper
lodged in the crevices of my throat,
hacking it out with a nicotine
kissed cough.

i've got four more pills in my pocket,
but i'm craving ten.
i saw a little mouse and fed him with some cheese
then suddenly the mouse he began to sneeze
the poor chap looked ill like he had the flu
i took him to the vet to see what he could do
then he looked at him examining around
looking everywhere with no flu to  be found
it must have been the cheese he said he has an allergy
when he ate the cheese with him did not agree
so i took him home and gave him cheese no more
now the mouse is well again just like he was before
it's just that i love you
it's just that i don't
won't you forgive me
if my indifference
turns into hate?
We will stand honestly together,
in the sfumato footsteps of the
centuries of lovers that met before us.
He will christen my eyes with kisses,
weave a crown of poetry in our intermingled locks,
whisper Neruda against my cheek.
We will smile
at the way our rib cages resemble wings,
our lungs, the birds, rising on each current
of fervent breath.
Someday hopefully.
will you miss me
when i am swept away by the winds of autumn
cracking
between the leaves?

will you miss me
when i am flung
over the dreading sea
frozen
in time
until the sun
leaves?

will you miss me
when i am stolen by the moon
just before you wake
a while before you sleep?

will you miss me
the last note of your favourite song
if suddenly
i am no longer there?

will you miss me
the answer
to your favourite question
whispered into your cool neck
in a moment
becoming a  blur

will you miss me
 Mar 2014 Trader Tim
M
Untitled
 Mar 2014 Trader Tim
M
Is that you?
Do you see me?
Far off, dancing through the trees?
Is that you?
Can you read my poetry?
Silencing everything but my heart's lonely screams?
Is that you?
Do you know who I am?
Is it worth finding out?
Am I scared of the answer?
Is that you?
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