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I write poetry because
I have the need to bring me
To this world
I write poetry because
I have to discover
Who I am
I write poetry because
I want to reconstruct
My body, mind and soul
I write poetry because
I’m trying to find
My way back home
I write poetry because
I know that there is something
Beyond my body that beats
Subtly to come out
Yes I write poetry because
If I did not
I would never know
Who I am
SO I WILL KEEP ON WRITING UNTIL I UNEARTHED WHO I REALLY AM AS A MAN!
S       I found myself on a sheer rock face of desperate desire.
H      Holding on to her presence, in the danger of my devotion.
E       But I lost my grip. I missed a step
and my heart skipped a beat.
E       Then she was gone...
R      And I was loose! Plunging, caught by a force of nature.
R      White noise filled my ears and dread filled my heart.
O      In a primal panic, a terrible cry shattered the blackened sky.
C      Her face faded away and I was left reaching for a line --
K      Trying to avoid the rocks below.
F       I tried to find some way back up the mountain.
A      I clutched for the breath in my lungs,
C      The breath that was there before I fell;
E       That moment skipped over,
F       When I lost my grip and you were gone.
A      I carry the pain inside, searching for release.
L       But life goes on and on, day by day.
L       Outside, I am quiet, I hold a steady gaze.
L       But inside, the scars grind like metal on metal,
O      Between a rock and a hard place,
V      Until the edge within becomes razor cold.
E       Like a steely blade inside a silken sheath,
H      The knife buried beneath, poised to draw blood,
O      When the balance is tipped, the pressure too much.
P       Will I crash on jagged agony below or will I let go the dagger,
E       To reclaim the climb? To reach again and find her face, aloft...
Yup, this was the big one. The all-time heart break of my life, circa 1986. Just obliterated, shattered, vaporized me. I am still trying to find my way back up.
Yeah.

Awake past midnight

An insomniac in a world of sleepers,

Creeps with god-awful

Dreams

Where’re the dreamers?

I see

Empty minds & broken hearts

Carriers of virulent Dark

Our shadows

Gorging on the world

Our souls

Lost in Oz

Praying to a wizard

Who’s a known fraud.

Fracking a

Way to never-was

We who claim to know

Love

Prey

Hand to mouth / hand in glove

The bare-knuckle

Fist

Fights to exist

To matter then still better -yet…

Who in this hell knows?

This place is estranged

Yeah?

Can’t wait to see tomorrow

Now that I’m awake

I Just couldn’t wait…

All I want is

Peace on / for Earth - today!

Oh Gaia - namaste.



So yeah...?
A lustful mongrel
Licks the bone dry on full moon
Nights that *******.
If the wizard of Oz was a fraud, we might get lost in Oz. So begs the question: “was the miracle of Oz real, or all made believe-in-me?”
*** Poem GreySkull.
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