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What you can do
if you can
is get through this
as a man.

Easier than it sounds when the ground's
always opening up to swallow you
and you
want people to follow you?
you must be joking.

if you look good you'll do good
and I could believe what I've read,
if I sat with a bucket on my head
I really could believe it.

But we do as we do or
we don't
and more often than not
we shoot the messenger
not
because we don't like the message
we
just don't like the messenger.

What bothers me is
what part of art and I
wonder where do I start
to paint the
picture.
 Oct 2016 Kody dibble
Darkly
There is a place caught between this one and another.

Found in cracks running along walls and in the space between trees during the night.

Hidden in the deeper dark, held in endless twilight.

A place, where in looking long enough, you may find the shadows looking back.

This small world, filled with the skittering and scuttling of small things and the glint of small eyes in the everblack.

Do not worry.

You are welcome in my realm.
Be sure to set some tea out for me. It's getting to be that time again.
 Oct 2016 Kody dibble
SE Reimer
~

prelude.

did you know that English stands alone as a written language requiring the capitalization of the word "I"... yet makes no similar provision for “we” or “us; a sad statement of self inflation.  it was after learning this that i abandoned the rule in my own poetry.


~

my i’s averted,
lowered, diverted,
reduced in size,
an exercise of
large proportions;
breaking down the me-isms,
finding room for we-isms,
to take the larger place;
create an i for seeing,
the case for simple,
smaller being;
no need to punctuate,
instead eliminate this
compulsion to inflate;
’tis my i-drop moment,
my i-reducing ointment,
these pupils are dilated,
deflating i and me,
enlarging we and thee;
finding that in i-reduction,
the eyes are widely opened,
thus to better see,
what i really need to be.
You follow me
faded dream after
faded dream

Your face was
not your own
perhaps you keep your
secrets away from me

Perhaps you want some
part of me
the freedom of being alive
hand in hand
lips to lips

Like lovers do
how they feign
the loyalty of dogs

they betray each other
they always do

But in the after life
there is no pretending
just the abyss, god and
the cold living nothing
"It's just one night",
said the Sun at last light
to the bird in flight.
she's as beautiful as her pieces
sadly she'll never know
that I hold her with high regard, no
she'll never know I yearn for her kisses
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