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I loved you before the alcohol,
Hourglass to the soul,
hour pass,
days maybe...
in between the formulation of golden nuggets in the mountains silver sands.
You held my hand and through velvet touch,
Electricity meander through my arms,
before the storm calm,
the start of a heart attack -
then the pack of house of cards collapsed.
In a deserts smile,
you flatlined through our favourite past times.
The pastures rich with buttercups
and dandelions like the last time.
When we walked over the train tracks harvest.
Last summer and last spring.
Somethings are everlasting,
and some pass like storm clouds without one droplet of rain,
in casting,
our love grew like tulips,
Yellow, red and blue,
bruises,
but soon come the rain,
our muses loses,
&
rendered useles;
I went away and
It's too soon to explain myself,
For that.
Back,
with cap in hand.
Lost in hearts melted by false starts,
and feathered cap,
Falsetto moods
sharp stilettos,
slap back.
I couldn't let go when the sun came through,
and a calming parting of the clouds where the rain came blue.
I thought I could live without you,
but I bottled it,
again.
Now I've nothing left to give,
but my gift to you.
sinking, sleeping in the land dunes
trying to understand you.
Ohm          Mani padme       Hum
Crazy
Wild and free,
Climbing the earth
In nature's tree.
Sipping the suds
From bubbly seas.
Creating love
Out of detestation's
Seethe. Scribbling
Quick the words
I know, I am the
Poet
You seek
To know.
My vibes you
Take in, from them
You grow, from you
I glow, because you
Are all
My inspiring
Muses.
no stone is colder
than a stone that's left unturned
afraid if we flip it over
we might just get burned

when there is no closure
the heart is only left to yearn
the pain never grows older
but becomes our main concern
I exist in a
modern
       fortress
of houses &
    cars, stores
around the
corner to buy
      anything
I want &
       the sea
& dark trees
remain
mysteries,
   peripheral
things only
    experienced
in
           dreams
passing
     ships that
sail in to
erase names
& obligations,
      stretch weak
             lungs to
breaking,
reprogramming
genes to flee, 
to tease out the 
         wild seed
    from my
ancestors tree
& in the absence
of jungle
     ignite a fire
from
bits of wire,
     from you
& me
& our ancient
      heartbeat
Old
A self-portrait.*

Gaze into the mirrored face
of the drunk man. See the
blurred innocence of
the departed boy. There are
no worlds but this world.
War, women and whiskey
do their destruction.
A man becomes what
a man does, but sometimes
that can’t be helped.
Perhaps a thousand more
lives must be lived
to undo the doing, to
break the bonds of Karma,
to find the arms of peace.
Every day a good day to die.

  ~mce
you have made it as a poet
- when the birds in the garden
ask for your autograph
How do I explain my ailment .. This ******* memory that haunts me in bed each night .. I've grown tired impressing definitions upon the satellites of my empty world .. Loneliness , a demon on Saturday .. A blessing on Monday .. Allergic to my kind , In darkness I commune , bereft of Sunlight ...
Copyright March 24 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Harlequin cover carried on warm zephyrs north
through febrile piedmont leviathans ..
Furious March sediments that choke . Debilitate ..
Frustrate and discolor ...
Copyright March 24 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
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