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I know all of you,
probably just as much
as I know myself.

I see all of you,
just as much
as I see myself;

just as I cannot see myself.

I do not know if I can ever know anything.
I cannot look into any of your eyes.
I cannot look into my own.

I am only left to feel....

I do not know myself.         I do not know you.
I do not see myself.              I do not see you.

I am only left to feel....

& through feeling,
I know that I love myself.
...Through feeling,
I see myself.

I am only left to feel....

I am only left,
seeing & knowing you.

I am only left,
loving you --                  all of you.

I am only left...
to love.
I love all of you.

ALL of you, as well as you-all.

You people are amazing. Each and every one of you all. All of my friends, all of the other writers I have yet to meet, all of the ones I will not meet... all of the ones who do not write, all of the ones who share sharp & contrasting perspectives, all of the ones I hate, all of the ones I wish did not exist....

                                 All of you.
                                    I love each & every one of you
I just wanted to say this.
Sorry for imperfections.
I know I can do better.
I am sorry I have not.
My time & self will be dedicated this weekend,
to all of you. Thank you all, so much.



Means a great deal to me that this one made it as the daily. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, everyone.
I look for you
In passing faces
A stranger's glance
In haunted places

I feel you among
Nature's grandest setting
It is you that I remember
Even when I'm forgetting

I see you wherever I go
In everyone I meet
Your words echo in conversations
That pass me on the street

Your soft, easy way
That safe familiar tone
That always takes me back
To a time long gone
All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.
 Jun 2016 Gerry McClelland
I am not a woman
No, not a man either
No flesh so keep shush
Crossing borderlines
Of love and hate

Through letters
Perfectly distorted
By motion of emotions
Spilling ink through papers
I am born free to wander

My body is a story
Of pain and pleasure
Slipping through time
Yet keep sailing away
From oblivion*

-I am a poem.
Lately I have this strange feeling of not being a human anymore.
I feel like my biological composition is fleeing and what's left are pure emotions.
And it's actually good, I can be anywhere, be anyone, genderless but still has an identity..
-Equality and Freedom-
shadows deepening
snow topped indigo mountains
flamingo pink skies
camped by a glacial lake
watching the end of the day
a single ****** swims past
its wake a thin silver line
then a loon calls from far off
and my heart disentangles
as the universe floods in
and washes away my pain
in a deep ocean of stars
bliss incandescent

— The End —