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  Mar 2015 Kody dibble
Dreamer
Dreams are imaginations that set you free
Dreams are the stuff that emancipate fettered hearts,
meandering absentmindedly

Dreams give hope and last till infinity
Dreams are a rope to cling on to sanity
For when the world hast been tarnished and depraved
dreams are but a cascadence and showers of grace
washing you gently ashore,
into another chimerical world
in which is only soon to fade
Kody dibble Mar 2015
Hello, good ally, of nothingness and naught,
Be- treat the ocean foul's beneath the earth,
I've lost my connection with Earthly loss,
And found the reason my Love is free,
Hello Dr. My enemy you see,
In gladness and light,
I feel no fame,
I feel no shame,
I feel nothing,
Except you my Light,
Except you my Everlasting Father Delight,


Don't say Hello,
Without stopping by,
And know the way,
Is difficult to find,
Hello, Hello, Hello, Dr,
I can find you,
In my eyes,
The people I can speak,
The oceans up above,


I am mindful of nothing that is,
While also mindful of him who is,
Light sunshine, and the truth defined,
Confined in shadows,
Of pains divine,
Agony and places you'd rather not be,
Love can and will always free
Hello Hello
  Mar 2015 Kody dibble
Joel M Frye
why a poet?
because a poet
hears the words
which sing the
purest harmonies
because a poet
paints their portraits
in pastels
of phrases
because a poet
dances their agonies
into leaps of faith
and pirouettes
of passion
because a poet
sees
the beauty
in the commonplace
and captures
the moment
in a snapshot
of ink and white
because a bloodless world
cuts itself
a thousand times

and the poet bleeds
For my friends here and around the world on World Poetry Day.
  Mar 2015 Kody dibble
Nat Lipstadt
(I love) Dignity

tearing words apart,
a part
of  a joy I cannot
explain or share exactly


knew a man once,
forty two years gone,
died too soon enough,
soon enough,
he and I will be
the same age

this man
a duck out of water,
a stranger in an adopted land,
trouble-stooped, a hard life, well lived,
never bent,
dignified in every step

I cannot remember him
ever kissing me, tousling my hair,
holding my hand, loving me in
a manner I wanted beyond  desperately

yet here I am, 5:22 am
weeping tears recalling him
in glimpses long ago seen,
adding them all up to get a
single sum

Dignity.

tearing words apart,
a part
of a joy I cannot/explain,
share precisely


dig
in
to
my
chambered memory storage units,
unlocking those rusted locks with freshly oiled
tears
and loving the dignity he exampled

to the son he could not kiss, hand hold,
but taught him the one lesson, digging deep
to respect life and stand apart,
stand with dignity.

all else will follow

the son kissed his children plenty,
in a vain attempt to make up his missed
homework

now the grandfather,
now the grandfather
is still kissing
his last hope, his newest babes,
rolling on the floor,
so silly kissing belly buttons,
smelling their skin repeatedly,

in a manner most
undignified

still weeping
the son,
he tries to sort it out

and forgives and does not forget
the man that taught dignity
in everything,
even, especially,
in slow dying,

forty two years is a long time to wait
to weep.

it takes two hands in the dark
repeatedly
to collect all the waiting patiently
wetness and the
accompanied sniffles,
so undignified,
the son smiles at himself
declaring unabashedly,
digging out from himself
a poem, a self-reflection
on time tarnished reflections
clear enough to make him
sob,
believing

I love dignity.
for my father...
  Mar 2015 Kody dibble
Melia
This door that you opened up,
I never knew what was in it
until the light was switched on.
I was so afraid of the dark.

No, it wasn't a room.
I saw a journey, a road.

Now I'm on my way.
No, we're on our way.
And never a chance baby,
That I'll take a look back.

Because I came to realize that
You were my light;
You switched me on.
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