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...and thus to sink,
ripples are
I think
quite beautiful.
Put your arms around me
Pull me in close
Surround my soul with your love
Drive me into an overdose
Your skin is my drug
And I can't get enough
Your lips, your tongue
The epitome of my dreams
Your mouth, your hands
Simply touching me
Is all that need
To feel the depths of ecstasy

I'm lost in your world
In your eyes
You've taken control of me
A destiny I cannot deny
I'm yours
Your dreams
Your future
Your happy place
And in your heart
I've found my home
A resting zone for my soul
More exciting than anything I've known
Yet, my most peaceful place to go

Your touch, your eyes,
Your soul and your heart
All of yours entangled with mine
And we shall never part
Dedicated to the love of my life, DaSH.
My soul is a song that sings a raspy tune,
About love, life and the heartache I've been through.
My heart is a book with pages and chapters written out of order about me and you.
I can't seem to remember the beginning of either and the end seems like a distant future.
But I want you to take your time listening, reading and trying to understand,
Because my life is in these words
And even if we're from different worlds
Love, pain, joy and heartache are things we've all come to know.
And by simply listening and reading each other, we can begin to grow.
I heard of a man
who never owned a
television.  
Instead he bought
a set of solid oak
bookshelves stained
like mahogany.

With the money
he saved on cable,
he filled them with
classics like Plato,
Aristotle, and Dostoyevsky.
He studied Darwin
and Descartes, and
memorized poems by
Whyte and O'Donohue

Because he never
made the switch to
high definition, he
could afford trips to
Rome and Tuscany.
Walking those ancient
streets and resting
in those heavenly fields,

he learned the art
of attentiveness,
minding the
genius loci
of a place,
and setting
one's cadence to
the breath of the wind.

And in the end,
he had a few books
of his own,
but they taught
nothing new
other than
how to truly live.
Thinking about Carl Dennis and David Whyte's book, "Consolations."
I love you to pieces
But I'm terrified of you
Trembling that I may be blind, that there's something major I'm missing...
You seem just too good to be true.

I ponder for hours late at night wondering
What could there possibly be?
Your flaw, of course, your skeleton in your closet...
What is it that you haven't told me?

Something that would surely scare me off,
Something I couldn't possibly tolerate,
Please baby, if there's something you're holding back...
Tell me now, don't be afraid.

You see, I love you to pieces darling
But I'm terrified of you,
Terrified I may learn something that would tear me to pieces...
Something terrible about you.
It was a windy, wintery day in spring;
I had on my summer clothes.
Then it started snowing and
My nose, and toes, soon froze.
Why did I not wear a warm, wool coat,
With a scarf, and hat, and such?
I can only say, that on that day,
I wasn’t thinking all that much.
I guess I thought that I was cool,
But what I was, was very cold,
And if my Mom had been around that day,
She’d have said, “Son you’re too old,
To be running ‘round in a short sleeve shirt
On a windy, wintery day.
Son, you’re dressed
Like it is summer, and it isn’t even May.”

But my brain was filled with other things,
Like what to say on my first date,
And how not to get there early,
But make sure I wasn’t late,
How I thought the shirt would
Match my eyes, make me look kinda buff,
And how much cologne I needed,
Was that too much, or not enough?
How to act if her Mom and Dad were there?
Or if we were alone together?,
With all these thoughts inside my head,
I thought naught about the weather.
Still snowing when I went around
A curve a little fast,
I tried in vain to hit the brakes,
But I guess I hit the gas.

The car was stuck, and I was
Late, still had eight blocks to go,
I tried running on the sidewalks,
But now they were covered in snow.
I slipped, then tripped, and landed
In a snowdrift four foot deep,
This can’t be real I reasoned,
I’m in a nightmare. I’m asleep.
But it wasn’t a dream, I was wide awake.
I was shivering; it felt like frostbite.
Surely my dream girl was worth it,
We could still have a wonderful night!
Finally, I climbed the steps to her door,
Rang the bell, and it opened wide.
Her father said, “Son, can I help you?”
You must be freezing, c’mon step inside.”

“YesSssir, I’m hhhhere, to pppickup your daughter,
Cccan you sssee if shshshe’s ready to go?
Thththankyou for letting me in
Sssorry ‘bbbbout all the snow."

“Son, she’s not here, he shook his head slowly,
I’m afraid it would be a long wait.
Not sure when she’s coming home,
She must have forgot she had a date.”

Phil Lindsey 1/12/17
Not exactly, but it could have!!!
Brain fluid's leaking
bones are creaking
I need tweaking
it's
Wednesday again.

It'll soon be 2020
wonder if I'll have
perfect vision then
when
It's 2020
plenty of time to wait
and see
I suppose.

At the stroke of a pen
chaotic
******
words from a neurotic
still Wednesday
can't write it off
won't write it away

'Have a good day'
but
you know they don't mean it
unreal
like bit coins.

another stroke of my pen
but
when the missus finds out
I'll be in trouble.

Still Wednesday and I've already
blinked hundreds of times
looks like the magic's on a
coffee break

Looks like I
will have to change it
manually.
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