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Under black and white hue water rippled softly, kissing and caressing my skin.
I was infinite,
beautiful,
a star.
I was the person he’d never leave,
and the daughter she’d live for.
I was the sky,
the moon,
the sun.
I was everything the earth had ever kissed.
And while sunlight twinkled I sat on warm rocks as water gushed from great peaks at my back,
and I laughed,
trembled,
shook, at the gift that was the present,
the essence that made life beautifully tragic.
And so alone,
however not lonely at all,
I let the hysteria encapsulate me
take hold of me
wrap it’s arms around me
as I laughed all the way back to my body,
where amongst a classroom full of familiar strangers,
i sat quietly
feeling utterly,
alone.
Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.
(there are your practice poems)
which we’ve all written
(there are your professional poems)
where we assume the accent of "the poet"
and then (there are your Real poems)
those where a woman can no longer speak to her mother
(and her mother isn’t dead yet)
and her husband stays by her side
(because their bond is that strong)
and that's how things end up
(how memories fail)
and we all get distracted
(from what really matters)
and then some child tries to make it right
(but fails, again)
like some inept diplomat
(and then gets distracted...
backyard birds
singing spring to life
wake me too
Sometimes

It

Really

Offends

Me

That

I

Am

A

Human

Being
Just Expressing My Anger

— The End —