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Now I lay me down to sleep
To slip into enchantment deep
Where roving mermaid colonies
Inhabit warm Calypso seas
With coral calls and starfish smiles
Crisscrossing uncharted miles

And from the waters wild but fair
We gaze at prowling ships up there
Rolling o’er our rippled sky
And peering down through plastic eyes
As if to draw us up by hooks
Into their lair of thieves and crooks

But no, among the waves I’ll stay
Until the harsh rays of new day
Consume this world of rare delight
And force me far from dreamy night
(Until another day subsides
And draws me back toward turquoise tides)
Norman Rockwell weekend
Faded baseball gloves
Slick stones off the water
Fishing for lost loves  

Boathouse Road revival
Rope swing double back flips
Red serape twilight
Rolling back for night dips  

Adirondack north woods
Boy Scout jamboree
Telling age-old stories
Felling age-old trees  

Back seat back road banter
Front seat small town blues
Lukewarm diner coffee
Corner TV news    

Swearing off old demons  
Swearing at red lights  
Chasing down old crushes  
Long into the night    

Headlights on the highway
Headlamps in the mines
Mountains in the rear view
Main Street on my mind  

Norman Rockwell weekend
Corduroy on wool
Campfire snap and sparkle
All-nighters to pull
A bright new sun and playful wind,
Threading wooden hulls,
Along the canvas of the sea,
Propelling billowing clouds,
Along the burning morning sky,

A bright new sun and wings of wax,
Dripping onto an exposed back,
Flying, hoping,
Burning,
Falling,

A bright new sun and a cold, endless sea,
Quenching flesh in brine,
Soothing youthful innocence,
The canvas swells, clouds left rolling,
As a new sun rises, the day begins.
The is an ekphrastic poem about The Fall of Icarus, a painting by Pieter Bruegel.
 Oct 2019 ConnectHook
Kara Jean
My thoughts shaking
I'm trying to find my composure
Swallow my tears along with the worlds fears

I see a face a 15 year old girl
Arms placed upon her lap laced
Brave and afraid of the unknown
Illiterate she held her own
Freedom was her new home

So many have fought and died, even today for its name

Still I have no clarity of freedom's meaning

Free to love?

Free to worship as we please?

Free from evil and hate?

Or is it equality?

To me it seems we are in desperate need of a refresher
To be reminded what it should be

To have FREEDOM
#PCJuly2016Freedom
 Oct 2019 ConnectHook
Mark
Channelling Nostradamus from the sixteenth century
Did you see what you just wrote
Or did you just dream what we see?
When your prophecies come true
I'll say, You only had one view
So good luck to you and your future note
One shan't believe from an invisible visionary

When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring

The ******* ***** always seems to wear lingerie
That always looks, just a little ******
But never ever, do they slavishly try
To imitate their true identity or culture
Not like those Kardashian dogs, that dress up
Always trying to stylise society, for a very large fee
Speaking of canines, where's that poodle named Paris
She had some real talent, didn't she?

When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring

I wish upon a **** star of mine
Whilst screaming up to ones heaven
Most pussycats lives, end in about nine
But my time was all over, within almost seven
Maybe I really could, make it all alone
On this place god calls, my extraordinary rendition?
Or shall I live this false life, as some sort of robotic clone
Not truly knowing oneself, therefore, failing my own audition?

When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring

Well, just get back on that bronco horse, named Toff
Dust off that hat, once worn by certain gent
For they will forever try and attempt to buck you off
You the rider, of this very serious event
So, forget about the fame and good times
and the overhyped lives of most Hollywood stars
Live within your means and save your silver dimes
In your half empty or half full, glass money jars

When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring

When I wish upon a **** star
My dreams start to become truth by far.
Laying around
about the dorm room
Bored
Looking for quick
Stupid cash
We came upon a listing
My roommate and I
in the local paper
Artist models needed
No experience necessary
That was key

The guy on the phone was chirpy
He lived
Close by in Oakland
He gave us directions to where
He would pick the two of us up
We
Would take the bus
He would be in a station wagon
Beige

He met us sure enough
Old
Old as the ******* sea
Formal suit and tie
Maybe a hat
We drove back to the apartment
And entered
First my roommate
And then myself

A ****** yellowed set of rooms
Where we will be heading to the right
To the kitchen
I’ve noticed the battered ***** *****
Mattress
Also
To the right
Stains and an attached clamp lamp
A single stark bulb

We were greeted by an even chirpier young lady
She was like a baby Joan Jett
All rocker black and leather
Sleek hair slicked back
She seemed somehow to like
really really old men

She took over and reached
for the plastic folder
She handed it to us
“You need to look at this before we go on
This is what we do”

Obediently, we cracked it open
and peered inside
Bent over we studied
Sticky plastic pages
Of brightly faced girls
Page
After
Page
Smiling with awkward innocence
No bright eyes nor youthful effanescance
No desire
Nothing wet
Except their palms with thoughts of escape
And 100 dollars

I only remember the girls whose makeup faded around the neck to betray
the true color of their flesh
Not flushed at all with sticky expectation
They left no impression in their nakedness
Ghosts
Shades
They should have been in class or doing something else

But our Joan!
Joan was a star.
Her photos were full of sass and delight
She was more than happy
to show you her ******
Over and over and over
She said
Actually
it’s a club
The guys pay a monthly fee
And they come here and shoot
In the apartment or maybe outside
They cannot touch.
There is no *******.
Mostly they shoot
Me.

Alone.
A Pixie Star.
This was were that old man’s money was.

I don’t remember what she told us
What she used to do before
this had to be a moment
A rather short moment
She would move along because
This kink was overstuffed with
impotence
and ineptitude.
Kink that might be easier to deal
With
On a properly lit stage
Or a quiet motel room with the shades drawn
Cash up front.

But for now
She was the enterprise.
And what would he do without her?
We three giggled and guffawed
in the little kitchenette.
We weren’t game for the arrangement.
She knew that.
But she liked to talk.
Men like that are pathetic.

Seriously why would we do this?
All those faces in the book!
Four on a page
Excitedly, we thought that we recognized
One or two
I know her!
Look I know her! I’ve seen her
in the Poli-Sci Building!
I’m sure we did not know any of them.

The mattress.
I could not fathom what happened on that thing.
I don’t want to know.
I had to look the other way as we left.
Did he perform
Abortions?
With hangers and kitchenware
Can ******* be that messy?
Just opening your legs?

We said goodbye to her!
She was wonderful.
She would sparkle forever.
Joan Jett!
Piling back into this hoarder’s
station wagon amongst
the musty boxes and newspapers
strewn all over the backseat with us
He drove
to the bus stop
A waste of his time
Disgruntled
Failure

He asked
How should this ad read
so that
this doesn’t happen again?
We offered no suggestions.
It had been fun
However idiotic.
I don’t remember
how long it was that
we kept our bus trip
secret.
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