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 Sep 2016
Polar
Child of mine please know

All things have a season

All things have a time

If stars can fall, then crash and burn

Humans fight and fail to learn

Then time has nought to teach

The blind will never learn to see

And the deaf will fail to hear

Even mighty rivers run dry

And seas can also die

Today

my heart stopped beating

But time has taught me this...

Love is where you find it

Follow joy wherever you can

Hope can spring eternal

Fellowship remains in man
 Jul 2016
Woody
A man may spend years digging
down into the shaft of love
looking for that mother-lode
searching halfway to China
only to come out of the mine
a poor ******* sick to death
and pockets empty limping
along with nothing to show
but a shovel over his shoulder.
 Jul 2016
Woody
Her body was a garden
of subdued light,
a place for winter
to begin, a place
for getting to know her,
the sloped edges of her eyes
shaped by the moon,
entries and curves,
a sad calamity,
dogwood blossoms
falling on her hair
like another woman
lost and cold in the snow.
 Jun 2016
r
The young receptionist
suddenly crossed her legs
behind the window
of the waiting room of my love,
smacked her gum
and said promise not to leave,
always come back if you do,
even if we give you bad news
for the rest of your life.
 Jun 2016
Woody
There is a place I go to
from time to time, I call
it Yours and Mine ;

forty acres of dreams and desires,
no fence posts or barbed wire
for the crows to lite on;

and the fields are full
of jonquils and songbirds,
no sorrow or regrets grow

there where the sun shines
on only the young
and the yellow butterflies.
 May 2016
Stephen E Yocum
Started with words as most things do.
anger escalated to yelling and swearing.
She came at me, fire and hate in her eyes,
This petite little woman I called my wife.
Her fists pounding my face and chest.
Shocked more than hurt, I extended my
arm to hold her off.

No man could ever do what she just did,
Not without my strong physical rebuke.
Yet I turned not a hand to this woman I loved.
A day before I would have taken a bullet for her,
and now it appears she'ed **** me if she could.

How does Committed Love so quickly turn to this?
So it would seem, trailer trash is more than skin deep.
My father warned me of this fact, a truth I refused to hear,
upon him, I had turned my back.

To her disrespect and abuse,
I did what any decent man would do,
I walked out the door and never returned.
Relax friends, thankfully this is not truly autobiographical.
Yet it does happen all too often, just did to a young friend
of ours. Abuse is not merely a male disease. Girls and
women too, can and are infected. A learned behavior,
a sad family legacy passed down from damaged parents.
 May 2016
r
I dreamed of my father
crossing the fields
on his one-eyed tractor
mowing acres of sadness
heading east of a moon
that'll be gone tomorrow
and I waded the creek
beneath a ridge
where my mother is shearing
dead roses and the smell
of those flowers floating
to the foot of the mountains
reminds me of her hair
and my father's laughter
disappearing across the hill.
 May 2016
Woody
First love is not spoken
not protected from the weather

it goes mad and dies broken
wet and with eyes clear and open

the stories of the other loves
are told right good

but true love can truly
only be spoken like two X's

cut over fang marks
drawing poison.
 Feb 2016
r
A blue guitar, twelve pieces of silver-
ware, some feldspar, an essay on The Art
of War, two pine bookshelves, fifty-four books
about the past, a stone axe that must have
belonged to the last of the Mohicans, fifty more
books about bones, stones and famous pomes,
a sliver of glass from a mirror that shattered
the last six years like they didn't matter
plus one to go, a shitload of old liquor bottles,
a fossil of an inner earbone from a killer whale,
a spear-point older than 12,000 years+plus,
a tooth from a shark as big as a ****** bus,
dust marks from missing pictures of us.
Dusting off the Smundy blahs.
 Feb 2016
ThePoet
I could be most deserving to die
but I can't help to feel this way,
to wish a darkness in every eye
that had locked with yours today.

© Sarah Ahmed (ThePoet)
No eye may gaze upon your beauty except my own. :D
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