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If he were a bird, I would let him perch  
On my shoulder, right next to my ear;      
His downy feathers would caress my face,
And his songs only I would hear

If he were a frog, I would hold him close --
And shelter him in my pocket;
Or, wrapped in ribbons,  he might feel at ease
Worn near my heart, like a locket

If he were a bee buzzing 'round my head,
I'd let him make a nest in my hair;
And in evening's hush he'd rest on my lips  
And leave honey-filled kisses there

In a jovial way,  I'm saying Love is blind
To the diversities dealt by Fate;
Our mortal frames are inconsequential ---
True love recognizes its mate
Revision of a poem I wrote a few years ago
eyes on the pavement,
the tiny architectects
of sky bound prayers.

the children draw dreams
with chalk-stained hands
on the cracked concrete,
flowers, and sky bound birds,
and home and stars and rainbows.

a shimmer of light on stone.

will the chalk bleed before the bloom?
~
Tonight underneath debris
Family foreclosure
...
Heaven's legs dawn through window
Offer artificial hope
...
Employee to love
Dressed for escape
...
Pleasure town angel
A multi-colored pretty thing
...
Mom questions way
Daughter drives to parties
...
Empty lips talk
**** reflection patterns
...
Death inside mom and dad
Beautifully cold skin
...
War god kiss
Midnight blue people (at dinner table)
...
Young shadows flower
Final stars fire
...
Money born cloud
Raining on remnants of family
...
Is there nothing
Left to mortgage?

~
Daniel Tucker Aug 29
So many times
I fell behind  
And my fears
Got the best of me.  

Caught by surprise              
In your looking-glass
Eyes
I locked into                          
Blew my mind--                    
I was not of your kind.  

But I still stayed                             By your side                        
There to guide  
My steps everyday                            
In every way;  
Trapped inside the
Obligation to stay.  

I thought you were
My friend;    
I had to pretend
To fool myself into
Believing in you.  

Caught in your lies,               
Hid behind your      
Disguise  
That you built up                    
Through the night--      
Nocturnal sight.  

You destroy             
Those you cannot
Pay;         
But those you've
Betrayed  
Now have better
sight,  
Brighter light,  
Slowly building up
The  
Strength to fight.  

And of all the
promises       
That you break,  
You justify by the
Laws               
Of give and take.  

These political and
Social              
Fault lines in the
Minds                
Of many, undermine  
Highlights--now the  
Cultural and structural  
Twilight--

The ancient                             
Disconnect between                    
The power elite  
And the people on the
Level of the street--     

Leading to higher
Levels
Of political and              
Social Chameleonic         Descent;  
Left wondering                  
Where our       
Idealistic & democratic               Societies went.          

So, as we watch  
Many of the global
Power elite  
Play their games
Of hide & seek                          
Behind           
The weight of policy--
That higher degree of                      Moral, political                    
And social leprosy--

You'll look for us,                     
But we'll be gone.
Political, Social & Spiritual Chameleons.
  Aug 20 Daniel Tucker
Bekah Halle
I live my life in widening circles
that reach out across the people I meet --
I circle around God,
Life before and after —
#life #faith
Robinson Jeffers: The House-Dog's Grave

I've changed my ways a little; I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you,
If you dream a moment,
You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you'd soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot of your bed; no,
All the nights through I lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit to read‚
And I fear often grieving for me‚
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying.
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope that when you are lying
Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.

No, dears, that's too much hope:
You are not so well cared for as I have been.
And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided...
But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.
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