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on a windy fall day

rain can be beautiful

"Liston caught Patterson with the right
and Floyd kept trying to get up
trying to get up
off the canvas
and that's something

beautiful
terrible
free

if you have,
HEART

and i'm shooting to turn in
one
last
great performance
knocked to the canvas
i'm trying to get up

i'm going to punch a hole through the moon
through nightmares and rust
through days shorten
like streets that have no street signs

through memories of you
in that yellow dress
dancing in the lightening, rain and thunder

it takes Heart
to ask to be forgiven

the radio was playing softly
and the space between your 2 front teeth
and your crooked little smile

and then I was holding you
in my arms
delicate and soft and tender
and i'm stealing quarters from the wishing well

what was the name of that song, anyway?"


"Rain Can Be Beautiful," she says.
miles davis blowing sad
and in the ruins of his room
among the empty beer cans

the room where the floor is tilted
like the fun house floor

he wrote his poems
on the back of over due bills

on paper plates flung out the window
like dying daffodils

on those orphaned buildings
on cookman ave


the click clack
and the sad echo
off his duct taped boots
drifting off empty stores

in the soulless town
he gave a heart

the man
axe in hand
chasing tommy down 5th avenue

too soon the night has found you

too soon you left this earth
Flowers of light
Mirror image of fire planet
All beautiful faces looking at mother sun
Attracting butterflies and bees
in love
To be kissed gently .



Shell ✨🐚
 Dec 2022 David Bernard Scully
M
I never know what say  

a memory of longing
is painful as it keeps

decaying in my chest

putting my love on paper
doesn't take it away
it amplifies the sting
trying to move on

infecting the open cavity of my being

you read my words like you understand
but I'm lost in a memory of what would have been

trying to collect shattered pieces of my own self

emptied and dancing whisked into the shadows
like the end of a dream

feverishly waking up because my feelings weren't received

give them but don't get them
like as if I sent a letter of longing

never in return
I try to write but the words are my tears
drink up
and only then you will feel the same
as I do
Driving
three bundles of love
to nowhere specific
but loving
the journey
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                    I­ will not Mourn for Summer

                                            for Jean in Canada!

I will not mourn for the summertime
Those six sour months of soul-withering heat
Desperate leaves and crispy grass and weeds
Dust devils exhausting their metaphor

Our November is everyone else’s September
With morning mists at last, sweet cooling rains
That ease the wounds of summer’s injuries
A cooling drink for a patient before he dies

Thanksgiving is coming; we will give thanks indeed
If the air-conditioning is silent at last
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