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 Jan 2018
Lawrence Hall
Feast of the Epiphany

Grey days recede into dreary, drizzling dusks
Baptismal rains across the windows slip
And even the candlelight is not proof
Against the gathering gloom of heartfall

Shakespeare leans uncertainly on the shelf
And agonizes over his writer’s block
Milton is writing yet another tract
On faith while smoking Players cigarettes

Warnie and Jack are out for a brisk walk
And Tollers is busy correcting proofs
Under a yellow puddle of lamplight
Bleak Spenser in his grief Kilcolman weeps

We all hold castles abandoned and burnt
Friendships grown mouldy, squabbles unresolved
Walks not taken, rough drafts uncorrected
Pipes gone quite out, cups of tea gotten cold

Has it been that long since I saw you last?
Come in; I’ll put the kettle on for tea
Just leave your coat and brolly by the door
Come sit by the fire; come, and talk with me
(In my part of the world that last paragraph is an alien. There are no brollies and seldom tea;  the milieu is one of cheap beer, illegal drugs, high unemployment, squalor, violence, diffuse anger, and existential despair, but I try to be optimistic.)
 Jan 2018
maxine
i came into this world 23 chromosomes of her and 23 of him
i came into this world for them to use me against each other
i came into this world for them to treat me like an object
THEIRS
no individuality
just...
theirs

years go by and i've started to discover myself
and as my petals open up and i bloom into the flower i'm supposed to be
i am rejected and have petals torn off one by one
"you're not gay"
"you shouldn't cut your hair"
"you look like a boy"
"you look so grungy and messy"
"your name is Kaylee"

but i was max
i was gay
i cut my hair
i looked like a boy sometimes
i wear band t-shirts and ripped jeans
but it's not enough
my individuality isn't taken into account
i am not a blooming flower
i am a mere seed
i have yet to be what they want me to be
and so therefore i am not anything
"it's all a phase"
"in 10 years you'll look back on this and feel so dumb"

i will never be enough
not for them
not even for myself now
nothing is good enough
i fight the hatred with knowledge and pride
and now i've just learned to stand to the side
as they come with their pesticide to run me back into the ground
tuning me out until i learn how to not make a sound
i'm tired of never being good enough. i'm tired of not being accepted. my birthday is on the 17th and i don't feel like i'll make it that long.
 Jan 2018
Dark n Beautiful
Life has no guarantees
We can’t sit back and believe
That life is perfect
There is an action, there is a reaction
There is no perfect poem:
there is no perfect world

Poetry comes from within, Poetry is all around us
Sometimes we see perfect images
But without the poetry insight
It would feel like *** without love:

We just have to listen to silence to find real poetry.
Poetry walks the Brooklyn Street lacking clarity
Poetry sits amongst the congregation grasping:
back alleys and subways cars waiting,
but each in its own order to recite their observation.

We just have to listen to silence to find real poetry,

We just have to listen: the world is changing……
 Jan 2018
v V v
I saw an old blue jay today
unashamed of his baldness.
His beautiful crown reduced
to wispy sprouts of gray,
every which way
like a patient after chemo.

Beauty cannot exist
without suffering


I saw our rabbit’s kits yesterday,
they looked like little piglets
nestled in her nest of fur and hay,
plump and tender bodies,
tempting feasts for
creatures of the night.

Peace cannot exist
without fear


I saw a hummingbird this morning
and heard her vibrating chirp.
Cautious yet eager she
bobbed and dipped for sustenance
a thousand miles from home
like a prisoner of war.

Home cannot exist
without longing


I see an orangey moon tonight
pierced across the breast by clouds,
in halves instead of whole.
A symbol of the way things are,
a broken world that
few take time to notice.

Consciousness cannot exist
without ignorance


I looked in your eyes just now
and saw love.

Sickness, disease, danger and fear,
loneliness, loss and uncertainty
is, was, and forever will be
washed away in their blue,
at least for me.

Certainty cannot exist
without love


Of this I am certain
 Jan 2018
r
The Moon is like lovers -
some so full of themselves
you can't break your gaze
away, while others
are half-lovers -
here tonight, gone
tomorrow - and then
there are those -
the quarter-lovers
- you know, the kind
who shine and pass by -
slow in the short nights
- not stopping long
enough to even whisper
- goodbye, my love.
 Jan 2018
ryn
the symphony
played by the water
upon the shore

punctuated at times
by that errant wave
that crashed a little too hard

dislodging half-buried notions,
revealing pint-sized dreams
and tabulating forgotten score

serving watchful eyes
a fistful of sand,
and pays concerned hearts
with total disregard
 Jan 2018
Traveler
Slow down, don't leave
Take a moment out
  Let yourself breathe...
There, in your psyche
Behind your silent pain
Tap into that storm cloud
And simply let it rain!!

Empty those old cabinets
Of filed foul regrets
Twisted through your memory banks
You haven't processed yet

There in your psyche
Hidden in plain sight
A need to guide others
By your poetic gift of light

Let it reign, let it shine
Pour your words upon the line
We all share a creative soul
Take your turn and let it flow
....
Traveler Tim
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