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I too will go to you, says the son
to the face of the father.

He broadens his smile
thin and gathering dust for long
as if to acknowledge
he always knew
one day his son would stand before him
resigned and weary
willing to join on his route.

The son sees his father's lips
move in the briefest prayer..

Welcome.
He left at 67.

No one knew
he caught the first light
through the window glass

smelled dew when autumn came
was joyous at the trills of birds
caught all the blue in his eyes
and smiled the sky was his.

No one knows
if it was too early to go.

He knew
he was briefly happy.
 Jul 2024
Ken Pepiton
Timing, instants are details, sfumata matter
softness sensed
you know

------------------
This treeform knowing, watching life's works
conform to species, fully capable of doing

just as has been done,
selectively by patient hopeful gard'ners
and talented statistic students,

and Bible reading reformed drunks,
who had a deal with the truth, a good one,
told as
truth, being considered comprehendible,
by any mind declared independent enough
to know, truth's held as knacks is held, tight,
-if self evidence is all you got, you gotta define.
right thinkin'
tight enough to feel the weight of the wand,
right, just enough to let the child feel the water,

feel it, there, that shush, little baby,
we didn't know, we didn't know life is so hard,
at the edge of the roads all paved and painted,

while I feel blind in one eye, from onions.
So, what a water witcher does, is guess better, than the geologist, that's all...
 Jul 2024
Traveler
Traveler
Watch Her choke as we burn Her oil
Frack Her in Her fertile soil
Festering life forms
In a enchanted garden
In debt to The Earth
No footprint pardoned..
ryn
Pillage and plunder Her precious rocks
Engorge Her full with artificial stock
Praise Her beauty
yet **** for Her bounty
What careless minds conceived
Our callous hands retrieved
Traveler & ryn
Collaboration


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGfuIBs2r28
 Jul 2024
Carlo C Gomez
~
faded mauve
butterflies
fluttering along
defeated
selenitic walks
the sound of
abandoned ship bells
in the far
parlor north
but the guilt of
wind is silent
like Venetian whispers
from motionless lips

us, then
inward and upward
one step too far
a house of strangers
tipping like boats
seaworthy as sleep
oars divide
the ocean
but framed pictures
and love letters
unite the walls
to this unstable floor
then, us
always, us

~
 Apr 2024
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                      Let’s Meet Again Next Week or Next Life

                                  Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 32

To ask to be remember’ed is good
Both for the humble asker and for the asked -
For both will pause to consider mortality
And both will pause to enjoy the happy now

We understand this world will pass away
That all created things must collapse and die
And yet we are promised them back again
And each other too, in saecula saeculorum

Then, yes, please, do remember me, if you would -
To ask to be remember’ed is good
Meme-ing from Shakespeare's Sonnet 32
 Feb 2024
Carlo C Gomez
~
Dead channel skies
Segregation in the flat fields
A hole in the silver lining
Where the fence is low

~
They fell from the moon last night
Caught in a strange
Chapter of fear
The land is inhospitable
And so are we
Wipe them from your mind
We must preserve what is left

~
 Feb 2024
Carlo C Gomez
Life is war,
my hands are hypnagogic,
so far from refuge.

The purgatory salesman,
an enemy with antlers,
speaks in hostile slogans:
create, destroy, rebuild, repeat.

My friend coma,
blunted and paranoid,
has lost her vital signs.

But Television says differently,
calls this an elegant demise,
you touch the screen
like you're touching God.

The immortal world
I'm hoping to collide with
is beautiful and closed to resistance.

But there are cracks in everything,
the snowglobe army
granular and brittle,
the constant uncertainty
of your universe
becomes a hiding game.

Take me with you
my halation angel,
to migration salvation.

We made our history
into mythology,
a mass of disconnected facts,
the stars may be dead,
yet, we're here
and we've stopped time.

Tonight I'm breaking
through the gates,
tonight I can see around corners,
suddenly, forever makes sense.
 Feb 2024
Maria Mitea
i can't touch you,
i'm forbidden to touch you,
to think of you, to sigh
          but i can see the seagulls
flying over the sea
            and screaming
                                and flying
i see how the waves are throwing stones at them
                                                    and they don't look back,

i”m forbidden to look into your eyes
but i can bathe in them like a tear,
and touch your warm cheeks,
until i drown in leaves,
i'm forbidden to kiss you,
but i can look for the summer,

i'm not allowed to touch you,
to sigh,
but i can smell you like an orchid
born without laws, without oaths,
before the sphinx man,
born of steam and smoke,

look, they overpopulate the earth
shooting "arrows" covered in pollen,
                                                        i­­n all directions
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