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Dan McGowan Nov 2018
The pull from the tree
That has poison fruit
Drags me in
Makes me eat
Against my will
Until I see
My feet walking
My hand picking
My mouth eating
That fruit again
What is the draw
This gravity tree
Why can’t I think
This animal pull
That drives me
To this fruit
I could ask Eve
I’m sure she knows
Unlike the man
Who just blames
Is that snake a rope
That binds my free will
Or are they fruits
From my labor
The magnetic pull
Of the dark
All that I know
Is please find a way
That takes me away
From the shadow
Of this tree
sometimes i write in first person even if it's not me, sometimes it's me.
Dan McGowan Feb 2018
I knew a man
He lived near town
Walked all day long
With a bag of snakes
Thrown across his shoulder
They slithered and moved  
With each and every step
You could see their outlines
As the burlap sack shifts
He had a name for everyone
Though he never saw them
Whenever he would feed them  
He would not look directly at them
So they would seem bigger  
More dangerous in his mind
Then they were in real life
One day he came across another guy
Who had a half full bag
And a happy smile
How had he managed
To get his bag like that
The man replied you have to face those reptiles
Then let it go
That made our guy about sick
The fear he had to face those things
Better to carry the load
Yet one day came
The burden was too hard
He thought at what the man had said
And would maybe give it a try
Opening the bag a slight bit
He caught one by the neck
He swore it was King Cobra
And met it face to face
This was the one with the unlikely name
Resentment Towards my Ma
Looking at this aging wonder
In his hands before him
He noticed it was small
And harmless to him now
He  looked at it and thought of the past
And Ma became Mary a scared girl
Who never knew how to be a mom
Mary had tried here best
Her best was never good for him
He dropped the snake and let it go  
A tear fell on his cheek
So it went after the first
One called Jealousy to Neighbor
Slipped through his fingers
Fear of Change
Was hard to go
With each one  
The next got easier
It felt what right must feel like
He saw the man  
He met a while back
He mirrored the grin on his face
I see you let some go
He said as he walked by
I feel lighter everyday
I struggle less now
Then another came by
With a heavy burden
They saw him as a brother
Let it go friend
When the weight is just too much
about me and trying to let go of past demons
Dan McGowan Feb 2016
the rain
I used to love the rain
we would lie upon the bed
listen to the rain
close so close
no words
hands touching hands
I used to love the rain
I lay alone listening
the tears they fall
flow from the sky
just before the light
mourning time
has come
Dan McGowan Oct 2015
cold bitter sidewalk wind
duck into chinese place
find a place along the window
hot tea, wonton, fortune please
watching quick and furtive striders
sun rays make it through glass haze
warmth returns to my numb fingers
which pry apart the brittle cookie
the paper inside says “decide”
Dan McGowan Oct 2015
cool crisp air
shows only hilltops
clouds roll low
through the valley
fanned by flocks
of silhouette birds
fields slowly emerge
tasseled stalks, orange gourds
ready for the harvest
other colors then the greens
break out in different spots
summers end brings thoughts
of cold which comes too soon
but yet some beauty still awaits
before the still cold white
all the rainbow but the blues
comes crashing to the ground
the smell of russet leaves
an air of reminiscence
the sound a shuffle makes
through knee high brown
all hands at work to rake
and jump and fill past full
find the perfect pumpkin
in a field full of them
yet one stands out
ready for the slaughter
with a jagged smile
Dan McGowan Jul 2015
all white
how to start
from end
than we know
the end
is good
or better yet
the big picture
then the little stuff
takes care of itself
a word
in the beginning
starts the steady stream
hope it doesn’t
end in a
Dan McGowan Jul 2015
the sun rises in rose fleshed bounty
but it doesn’t cut my ******* lawn
the whispered prose of the wind splashed water
doesn’t pay the bills
tree arches steadily toward the arc of the stars
yet it can’t wash my car
for all the beauty the world revels
what the **** has it done for me lately
poetry is probably the one of the most unnecessary things and that is it's beauty
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