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Trevon Haywood Sep 2016
They all say that rain
cleanses the soul,
Yet I don't see anyone
on a rainy stroll.

Instead they run from it,
like it's gonna bite,
It won't,
unless they're flying a kite.

Sure you may,
get a bit wet,
What's the big deal?
At least it's not sweat.

So you won't
need to shower at home,
If you like your hair,
just bring a good comb.

But remember,
it's just plain old rain,
Don't run from it,
it's all in your brain.

Anonymous. 9/2/2016.
  Sep 2016 Trevon Haywood
Traveler
Surely
I am but a wisp of smoke
Swirling boundless
To and fro

Out of the fire
A non-corporeal host

Stinging eyes
Burning nose
Cough me out
Or start to choke

Surely
I am but a wisp of smoke

Another cloud
Another soul
Into thin air
Watch me flow

Out the window
And down the road!

Surely I was
A wisp of smoke...
My avatar wrote this poem.
Trevon Haywood Sep 2016
A sunshiny shower
Won’t last half n hour.

- Anon.
Trevon Haywood Sep 2016
Thunderbolts,
Zeus's weapon of choice,
For water of life,
companion and voice.

When rain is scarce,
we pray and we cherish.
When there's too much,
we're afraid that we'll perish.

Water of life,
feeds our souls and our earth.
Precious ingredient,
leads to infinite birth.

Anomynous. 9/1/2016.
Poem dedicated to Maria.
925

Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning—
Lightning—lets away
Power to perceive His Process
With Vitality.

Maimed—was I—yet not by Venture—
Stone of stolid Boy—
Nor a Sportsman’s Peradventure—
Who mine Enemy?

Robbed—was I—intact to Bandit—
All my Mansion torn—
Sun—withdrawn to Recognition—
Furthest shining—done—

Yet was not the foe—of any—
Not the smallest Bird
In the nearest Orchard dwelling
Be of Me—afraid.

Most—I love the Cause that slew Me.
Often as I die
Its beloved Recognition
Holds a Sun on Me—

Best—at Setting—as is Nature’s—
Neither witnessed Rise
Till the infinite Aurora
In the other’s eyes.
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