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 Jun 2018
r
There are the dead
and the dead and
the dead and the dead
floating down stream
towards the Ferry, and
there are the things
my brother, Barry, never
thought about telling me;
I am dead asleep, I am alive
and you are gone south
my brother, tell me I am that
which I am, I am dreaming
that you are not death yet,
we are  one person
getting up and going
outside naked as the day
we were born, one April
and one May, we are still
rolling down hill in the hay,
and you say we should be
shaking our fists at the moon
O, brother tell me you
miss me and I’ll tell you, too.
 May 2018
Sara
Recoiling in a lover's arms,
I stare out through steamy glass
and find my peace among the stars.
Cold, but still I melt his heart.

I hear music through the walls,
never once said I'd break your fall.
I'm sorry. Though, I'd never ask
that you should hit the ground so hard.

Nor that you should fall at all.
Control yourself- you know the rules.
You don't know me; I don't know you.
Please act your age, don't act the fool.

And still with hopeless puppy eyes
they laugh to me with loving smiles.
This is a game and I'm your prize-
stop thinking I'll be yours in white.

I'm not here to connect with you,
I'm only here to get with you.
Please, this is not a union.
I'm using you; please, use me too.

Away with knocking on my heart.
I'll lick your fingers clean to start
then nibble on your ear for main.
Friend, love and lust are not the same.

Though we are both but hearts alone,
it's not your heart that makes me moan.
Reciting rules to men full grown:
if you should fall, you'll fall alone.
Sorry if this offends anyone

//y e s cool love is great but sometimes no love is also great??

Let it be
 May 2018
Antonyme
Once, a man had a dream
telling him

if you look, you shall find

Wrapping this message in
hopes and dreams, he laid it beside his heart
Leaving all things behind;
love...
family...
children...
to search of his calling

His home a nook
his friend a book
his heart he took
and threw it away

Days turned to weeks
...
weeks turned to months
...
months turned to years
...
though,
he sat,
looking weary eyes
to the horizon

A young man turned old
wishing for his dream to come true
without his heart

Slowly fading away;

Not realizing he was looking
in the wrong place

...

His heart still beating
beside the road
Look into your heart
and you will find.
If only to know it was Wednesday
and to stay under the duvet 'til Saturday,

These are my dreams at play
the hopscotch, one more notch because
I'm that dinosaur,

if only I could tear, tore, the sackcloth and ashes
I wear, wore for unresolved issues.

And then I misuse, confuse the language
where love becomes points on the market board.

I'm glad that I'm not yet awake
If it was so then how could I take
this feeling of emptiness,
but
empty or not
something is gnawing away at my gut,
hollowing me out.

Eventually when the sun rises I'll be
a hologram
a hollow, shallow,
former shadow of a man
and
it's still Wednesday.
War
Conceal amnesiac eyes with a hood,
Maybe nights fall oddly placid.
Sleep could collapse its resistance,
Crumble sunlight into ashes.
Nightmares internally unravel,
Soldiers fought, already lost.
Invasive thoughts occurring,
Arising ice, I can't defrost.
This complexion leaves me perplexed,
Battling behind my forehead.
I can't evade this hopelessness,
I've pled, go back to bed.
Sunsets settled maniacal,
Malnourished; give me a mask.
Because all I ache for is sleep,
To possess what life I'd had-
This is a really old poem, completely redone.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
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