Chrome
Lumensent
Paint, please.
Remembrencé

I will take the truth from your lips
And kiss the pain out of it,
Till all that remains
Is our happy little lie.

I will take the love in your gift
And throw away the wrapping bit,
Revealing the gains:
Our happy little life.

You left her
on the pale of an old wound. Just When She Needed You Most. It's
true that the world is a flat rockfilled
place.

For years she worked a new garden.
Now the songs
are warped and the plants
won't grow.

Her ramblings stutter.
But  offer
a small breath in her direction
and she dances.

Combien Monsieur for some air
you breathed, for a flower you
grew, flesh to the perfect
old dream?


Caroline Shank

.
Candles light the way to my worn
torn books.  I read every night.  The
covers loosened from the binding.

It is a fragile thing that I have come
here to write you.  I am a little out of
shape.  The company of great
writers intimidate me. I am wrapped around the stylus of an idea.  

In some way think of this as an
entry into my thoughts.  Are you
interested in the nocturnal rambling
of my old, my favorite phrases?

Something in me likes to hear you,
in your deep voice, read to me what
I write.  My imagination startles me.

The candles are burnt enough.  
You will not return to this library
which you began so long ago.

I write to you in my diary,
Harker, words you fling from the
runaway carriage window.

I will never die and I will look
for you in my books forever.

I listen to the wind through
the pages.

Caroline Shank

(march 2020)

..isolation diary..

..day 17..

bright clear cold today
early before folks wake i
light the incinerator

to burn the leaves
garden debris

the wild cat watches
each time i clear a patch
he finds another heap
to nestle in

so i wonder whether to leave
a place for him, the darling

for that is his given name

on my walk i noted the numbers
one hundred up the hill to pentre

ten at the gate

the sheep was 28 with two
lambs marked the same
there is multiplication
for you

i stopped to watch as the vehicle came
a tractor

i have been walking the centre of the track
no vehicles a fortnight all on lockdown

the farmer fetching bales and nodding
as he passed

i nodded back

noted the blossom
noted the crystal stones

walked home

it is suggested that we are out walking for one
hour

i should like to walk on
i turn for home james

176

still in my pjs with boots
my warm garden jacket

The Heart Of America

  Together we stand
Divided we fall
All for one
And one for all

This is what was
This was the heart
Beating strong and true
But it’s now broken apart

Now it’s divided we stand
And I don’t care if you fall
There’s no love for thy neighbor
There’s no love at all

Only the strong will survive
There’s no future or hope, it’s just hate
When the weak are dead, they’ll turn
On each other and this is the fate

Destiny when they don’t know how to
Farm or hunt or cook
They think they can take and take
Then they’ll see what they took

I can see the future clear in their world
The farmer is dead and his crop too
His cattle and chickens as well
With nothing to renew

Then they’ll have it all and have nothing
All the money with nothing to buy
The cars the houses no fuel no law
Not a thing no factory for supply

This is the Liberal way
They think this is best
Back to the days
Of the Wild Wild West

**** or be killed
Nothing left to live for or die for
Just empty city streets and barren land
And time ticking away to hell’s door

The liberals, what’s yours is mine
Though they didn’t work a day
But it’s not fair if anyone has it
And they don’t, are the words they say

But in reality when they get what they
Want, they will have nothing at all
Everything will be worthless when it’s
Divided we stand and I don’t care if you fall

Because now there’s no love
Only hate and hysteria
That’s what we have beating
In the heart of America

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright © 06/03/2020
All rights reserved

Sometimes
We need no pills
To heal.



Sometimes
Therapy
Is no remedy still.



Sometimes
Nothing can mend
A broken heart like WORDS.