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 Jun 2013 David
tread
invention
 Jun 2013 David
tread
last week feels like last year
last year feels like last week
 Jun 2013 David
Gaia
Irish Jig
 Jun 2013 David
Gaia
On a not so crowded street
with people milling about or standing around drinking coffee,
someone brings out a mandolin
and starts to play a cheery Irish tune.
Strangers turn their heads, some smile
and then a fiddle joins,
suddenly a guitar jumps in.
People bob their heads,
and some of the braver ones begin to dance.
Pretty soon the street is full of
tapping feet, laughing faces, and clapping hands.
The song ends
and the strangers part as friends.
 Jun 2013 David
bambi
humans
 Jun 2013 David
bambi
I.
safe respite from a scary movie
i woke with bags under my eyes
heartbeats under dryer sheets

II.
you could carry me quite far
i loved for you to grasp my hands
they smelled of sweat and cinnamon

III.
first cigarette sixth kiss
you wrote me notes, i burnt them all
of you i do not speak

IV.
you whispered as i wore
your granite jacket; i have yet to tell you that
it's been my favorite color since

V.
you were damp new leaves
weathering fall's best storm
and i destroyed you just as completely

VI.
wet rain long fingers
i rest and watch you speak
i believe
you may be
the final sequence
A poem for the humans I've fallen in love with.
 Jun 2013 David
dj
Ghostly Swim
 Jun 2013 David
dj
An old tombstone
slinking off into the lake behind it
The tiny graveyard
forgotten by everyone who knew the plots
Forgotten by time
Forgotten by the city
Forgotten behind forestry
Reclaimed by nature

The right corner shattered
Erasing her last name forever
Now 'Cynthia Fe-'

Her swimming tombstone in the back
Reaching to the waters
The calm waves splash against it
I bet she was a swimmer.

"Gone but not forgotten"
Sounds like sarcastic graffiti

But can you be forgotten by everyone
And not lost?
 Jun 2013 David
Jillyan Adams
pressing the tight muscles of my shoulders
hard against the stillness of the air

leaning into the melody and out of it again

my fingers not unlike grasping claws
trying to pull music from
a dead thing
that does not love me
the way
it used to.

you have robbed me of my music,
of the words that would
flow in elegant waves from my willing fingers,
refreshing as water but not nearly as
cliche.

the melodies
that raised the veins in my neck
when i spoke them to the mirror
and the windshield,
that left me breathless
heart pounded
half-smiling
into the beautiful vortex of my
spired mind.


they're gone now.


and i'm left with a dead horse slung across both shoulders
and an albatross
around my neck.
 Jun 2013 David
Hilda
Contentment
 Jun 2013 David
Hilda
I would rather appreciate simple things I have than have what I cannot appreciate....
 Jun 2013 David
Gaia
Untitled
 Jun 2013 David
Gaia
You know that pain
that seems to come from
deep in your bones,
among the marrow,
sending hairline cracks that splinter
and break open along your limbs?
The pain that knots your stomach
and glistens as sweat on the palms of your hands?
It digs through your skin
and breaks through
blistering and
festering.
But it's in your head.
You don't cry out, scream,
you just go about your day.

"I'm okay."
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