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It's a heart on world with my sleeve steadily exposed
A life line on a call line, dial 888 to be controlled
Puppets on a string to compose this household
The happier we'll be the more we're enclosed

       Smaller spaces to lengthen the gap
       Encircling our inner self control
       Consuming what's left of the demons
       Trying to get a refund on our soul
      
Love changes colors like a rhyme
Smooth and easy
Eyes like the darkness of time
Slow and steady

Yet we're still not ready for the fight
Insanity walks through the door
And just when the time is right
Our beliefs slowly melt into the floor
THE COMMONWEALTH GAMES
THE QUEEN'S BATON RELAY
THE POETRY OF QUEENSLAND
IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE TODAY


MY BOOK IS IN THE PALACE
MY LETTER FROM THE QUEEN
PROMOTING OUR BEAUTIFUL STATE
LIKE NEVER EVER SEEN


I AM A BRISBANE POET
THE QUEEN HAS MY BOOK
THE BATON RELAY HAS STARTED
BY HOOK OR BY CROOK
THE POETRY OF QUEENSLAND HAS BEEN IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE SINCE MAY 2016. THE COMMONWEALTH GAMES GOLD COAST. THE QUEEN'S BATON RELAY HAS COMMENCED. THIS BOOK IS A BEAUTIFUL GIFT OF THE GAMES IN AUSTRALIA IN 2018.
3 generations of dust gathered
on a groove outside my
window,
breeze licks hair licks salt to nose
are we all not
here but to suffer
in our own forgetful minds

This loneliness and sunny languor
is a mirage
so big I cannot fathom
it, nor can I remember
my sadness's Name
i fixed the error, but it trended oops
 Mar 2017 Lonely Poet
somberbitch
Its a curious thing.
How one can be in a room full of people,
a planet so overwhelmed by beings,
yet feel so secluded and alone.

How a whole planet full of incessant conversations,
billions of souls to my choosing
and yet the only one that can truly make a difference is you.
 Mar 2017 Lonely Poet
smallhands
how the writing thins because another day heaps promptings onto her overthinking head, harrowing laments and fantastic stories
she gets some time alone, quiet, where ideas amplify or where dreams turn boundless

-c.j.
It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.
 Mar 2017 Lonely Poet
Angel
Where do I begin my journey,
is it walking down the road without turning back
or is it driving past the red lights as fast as I can?

Running away never seemed to solve my problems
like a child throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the store isle.

No longer a teenager
waiting on mom and dad to deal with my anger;
Sitting alone in the corner wondering why the tears
keep rolling down like tidal waves across my face.

The car is on humming that beautiful engine sound
the birds are out and the sun is bright,
but I can't move my body to make that first move.

Am I waiting to make a change or am I stuck in the same routine?
I continuously ask myself as I feel the heat of the sun on my face
not knowing how to change.
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