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Don Jan 12
Words loose their measure
When meaning is a seeming thing
What source comes from where they breed?
Do you feel displeased with forms
Outside the books you read?
Shadows undulating, don't you wonder if the diction is all a thing
To be merely believed? I read a little less
Between the lines, and sometimes
It seems nothing connects to me.
Nothing begins and nothing ends
Word to word, a melody, eternity
Or so they say, it seems?
Don Jan 11
With mere ideas, I lost myself
Punched my gut, knocked the wind
Off the sails undulating
Towards an unknown destination, stationed
At somewhere, "coming home."
I knocked the wind, straight out of me.
And when I caught my breath,
I couldn't catch up, breathe enough,
And by then the sails were not only torn,
They were gone.
Don Jan 3
Simple motivation,
Never cared much for saying such things,
I don't know where I'm going,
And I know I won't do a thing,
So cut off the content,
And have it another way.

As silent as a broadcast,
With nothing but shame,
And all assumptions noted,
No one's watching, built my bad name,
A simple nod, something softening
As I look for purpose in the pain.

What's the quality of this content?
Office empty, others looking other ways
While I'm shaking out my awful.
Not a lot I can still contain,
A simple silence, pen shaking over
Words stammering from my lungs.
Don Dec 2019
I left the field
Of every fallen thing,
I refused - I fled the pain
I did not want to suffer the same
But the symptom of life
Is going once again,
A something melody
Ringing out the nuance
Of every ancient pain
Alone to our devices
Dividing ourselves again.
Don Dec 2019
I got up and fell over
Like a chemical spill
Taking place at 4 o' clock
In the morning.  I'm jeopardized
Man, I don't partake in life
But stand in parking lots
Filter to the brain
Filled with broken thoughts
While my last friend voices
All his troubles. What
Are mine again?
They're broken thoughts.
I don't exist, but I
Hear that you're talking a lot.
I'm good for listening,
But when I talk
I feel vapor in my lungs.
Communication is not my
Strongest part.
Don Dec 2019
let me wilt away
the little flower, fades
curses the hour and the day,
says in wonder, talks in dismay
bless the blue sky
now comes the rain -
so swallowed by,
ocean pouring down
by some seasonal tide.

what's showing now
is that every curse
and every blessing
passing swiftly by.

I find the words hard to say.
I find the worst hard to say.
And I'm not sure I'm worth
It - maybe I won't stay.
the verse complicates
the temper, rage!
stream of conscious -
much less to say.
a winter come, gaining age
my eyes well up,
I cry today.
Don Dec 2019
I'd sit a little to the left,
Tilting over the edge,
At an angle only death,
Wouldn't know the threat.
I dreamt of falling over,
A simple "did my best,
To keep my head"
Passed through my mind,
And over the ledge.
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