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/\/\
can/cant
write a true love poem
without free falling tears
welling before the before
i.e.
the first word is laid down

just the way it is with love,
lost or found,
forgotten or-newly uncovered,
either/neither way,
the ducts working overtime,
distorting visibility, and
realistic truths,
so no chance their
accompaniment is not
present,

it’s as if it is
de rigeur,
a precursor-cursor!

the non-cursory
liquidity summoned
to protect and provide to
that place where love
thoughts, hopes, all
memorials
are stored,
needy for wet
to be released

not a love poem
above and about
or
finding it or losing it -

more about remembering
when either came
without an or within it,
always was
a two sides, one coin,
two identical equalities
but separated
by
direction

weeeping means
meandering memories
congealing, needy for reliving,
a retelling forgiving,
sinning and reexamining,
an easy gliding
when the path
is eased by a
slippery slide
of
damp
can/can’t (write a love poem). olp  nml
You might look at me and see
Someone who is fast asleep
One that is in desperate need
A strong amen indeed

Then there are the other days
You will find me wide awake
All of it for heaven's sake
Oh Lord, this I pray

I'd rather have a steady flow
In my upward steady growth
All of it for this I know
God is always in control

No matter what my day is like
Walking straight the razor line
Or on a roller coaster ride
I give it all to Jesus Christ

Who knows me well and still loves me
Gave his life to set me free
The rest my friend is history
A strong amen indeed
Don't have to acknowledge the sty
When we're all blind from an eye for an eye
~•§•~
There's a broken heart in every lie
A loose thread in every tie
~•§•~
Look and you'll find failure in every try
The hardest question proposed or answered is,
"Why?"
~•§•~
Why does what I apply
End up needing an alibi?
~•§•~
Ignore those that only supply
Some self serving reply
~•§•~
Life is something you can't defy
Walk your own path and fry
~•§•~
Don't worry if you can't fly
Only gods live in the sky
~•§•~
They're probably getting high
Just to f*cking get by
~•§•~
Ghosts can still cry
But the dead inside can't seem to die

©2024
What shy thoughts run through your head on the daily, and twice at night?
Swaying curtain in the window,
airguns after dinner,
broken doll on the highway,

a promise is a promise.

The small winters
in the corner of her eyes,
Mom and Dad, they hold serve
in the garden, at the office,
no one is watching as she reels,

hurt whispers on.

Walking past stones and trees,
the bones of things,
coming at it all wrong,
this time she makes a promise,

under a name that hides her.
A teenage female student opened fire with a handgun Monday at a private Christian school in Wisconsin, killing a teacher and another teenager during the final week before Christmas break. The shooter also died, police said
~
It lays silkenly sweet against
sun kissed skin
tiny straps, perhaps strapless
delicate linen softly draped
tender tiny tucks and nips
delicious bows tied at nape

It cascades around curvy hips
‘round a waterfall that slightly drips
sprightly colors all wink as
they whisper and swish
full of giddy and laughter, they flirt
away gloom, rain and mist

Teasing touches wraps around thighs
dancing daisies pause as I walk by
serenely skirt and brush past
with a soft wispy cushion sway
plump full, recline, pause to chat
on a sultry summer’s day

~
To a stranger
I might look weak
Crying at 11:00pm
Outside in the cold
Headphones on

I might look crazy
Spinning
Reaching out to the far away stars
Standing on a tree stump in front of a random house
My favorite place to be
Waving at every passing airplane
Wondering if they're waving back to me

Maybe a bit strange
For most teens don't go outside to walk
Especially so late at night
Alone
For that

But I know
If I was the stranger
Looking out their bedroom window
Watching
I would smile
From a couple days ago but forgot to post

(This note was written by wheely chairs without wheels)
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