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Harry J Baxter Apr 2014
Crack a hole in my skull
to let some light in
I’m walking around confused
checking out the numbers
on the side of houses
I’m walking around whistling the theme tune
of a movie I never saw
in light tinted green through newly sprung leaves
I bask in the holy midday sun
everything so fresh and new
it makes one forget about mistakes
and tomorrows
and consequence
pour me a strong, cold drink
I want to live life
on an endless back porch summer night
where the insects and the trees make their music
as we slowly let go
of the parts of ourselves
which hold no real weight
cut me to see if I bleed
I bet the blood would never come
too thick from the sweat induced
dehydration
I’m drinking iced coffee
on an infinite stretch of broad street
I’m climbing the trees of my childhood
to pick the fruits of my memories
they taste like nostalgia
and they taste like you
how I imagine you taste
if we were cast together
outside of time
these are the musings
of a mind riddled with growing up
Harry J Baxter Apr 2014
I am a purveyor of sin
sins the things which define us
which mark our character
and make us human
give me your sins
your ***** little secrets
too overwhelming for many mortal ears
give me confessions of lust
and passion
and rage
and jealousy
and I will give you beautiful stories
of times when sin saved the day
gave life to the mundane
give me your lies
the whopping big ones
just know that I have built my house out of lies
and am no stranger to their seductive ways
give me your dreams which became nightmares
your shame
your darkness
give me the parts of you
most people would never see
  Apr 2014 Harry J Baxter
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Harry J Baxter Apr 2014
The sun in the air is a pinprick
And heaven is leaking through
Birds shot forth as arrows
Rip through divine scenes
Of colorful vibrance
With their songs
Infecting my idle tongue
With rhythms of untold tomorrows
Living inside of the holy kaleidoscope
Shaken in an infinite snow globe
The time is melting down the brick of city walls
To pool in the streets
Like gasoline rainbows
Clipped winged angels eating Eden
Without any notion of good and evil
Black and white
Reality flickers like static
And I am a man
Lost in the sanctity
Of a wonderfully calm
Vast sea
Harry J Baxter Apr 2014
I am up at night
sending my prayers to anonymous strangers
because maybe they have the answers
maybe not the ones I want, but the ones I need
there is something beautiful about them
human blank canvases
potential for beauty
comedy or interest
their nameless faces
playing on the projector of my mind’s eye
the closest I have come to finding God
Harry J Baxter Apr 2014
the streets are comfortably empty right now
silent save for the trash blowing down the streets
the murmur of an engine and the slapping of tires
but danger lurks off screen
a constant constant
men with nothing to lose but their desperation
and still the air is sober and calming
my head is racing and I am losing
I didn’t even show up on time
we all want to think we make the decisions
we all balk at responsibility
we have excuses
faces to point fingers at
I came upon a homeless man sleeping in a doorway
by almost tripping upon his pair of emaciated, ratty legs
he was sleeping
an absurd notion in his situation
just right there on the street
in some strange doorway
beneath an array of indifferent stars and galaxies
I stood there watching him for a moment
which felt like hours
and I don’t think this man dreams
I think for him a night of safe sleep
in a doorway
is his waking dream
Turning around I left him there
and the quiet streets of the city I love so dearly
seemed a lot less quiet
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