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de Negre Sep 2018
if time knew no name
                                   i might be happy
for every time we call
                                   i always must say
(through the power lines)
                                   goodbye in twenty
with our sour looks,
                                   we accept goodbye

not that we want to
                                   but we must leave- with
inherent certain-
                                   ty, we know we’ll talk
again- one day soon,
                                   maybe far
but my words will
                                   reach your tired ears;

their echoes will bounce
                                   cave wall to cave wall
singing their song
                                   each time they connect-
word- syllable- tone;
                                   “goodbye in twenty”
a bee with its *****
                                   a wasp and its bite.

lo siento mi
                                   vida, quienes
ojos son el cielo,
                                    son la mar.
ode to my past lover (again) just thought i might
de Negre Sep 2018
part, the first                                                    
hauling through the desert          

the passing drum band-    

the unending rhythm


taste the dust storm          

the thump of my feet raw response    

each oncoming moment- the last; but yet to come


following the north star          

the answer- an end    

what was the question


the soldiers on skeleton camels          

to what war do i march forward to    

where was my solidarity when the band passed


scorched- exhausted death march          

the old man always told- foretold      

his stories; old as the desert


or the star which scorched the earth          

which burned the roots      

his tongue was with the soldiers


the verse rode the wind          

part, the second                                                    

with the clouds; non-presence      

written on scrolls

as old as the sun which scorched the earth      

the north star just as old-

but the drum band has passed      


with the dust we once tasted
please enjoy. the sahara is a long journey and we all need entertainment
de Negre Sep 2018
i am in love

with being in love

with you


and i would not

be in love with

being in love


if it was not

you i was in

love with.
ode to a lost lover. it would be funny if she looked back and found this, searching for my poetry after years of silence. God bless her and the storms
de Negre Sep 2018
its okay,
bad days pass with the wind,    

i seem to be
caught in many unlucky drafts.    

this air hobbles southeast;
God bless the storms.    

i am told:
(often) "use your sails for the wind."    

foolish are they-
i already know my repost:    

"have you ever
held these ropes?"

and i ride
the winds.
for winds and zephyrs, may they bless you forever
de Negre Sep 2018
i stopped watering
     the succulents,

because even if i
     watered those **** plants,

they would die.

just stop dying,
     and drink,

******.
based on true experiences in the life on mine.

— The End —