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i         had         a
dream last night
that     you     fell
in      love     with
someone        else
and     i    realized
that  i  don't want
to      spend     the
rest        of       my
life    scared   that
i  might  lose  you

i         want        to
spend    that  time
waking             up
next      to       you,
seeing               the
world    with   you,
learning    how   to
grow   old  bravely
with                 you

and       i      guess  
what    i'm  trying
to         say         is

marry              me
You work so hard, you struggle,
Like the sunrise against the clouds
And it is not yet clear, my dear
You have to keep working, struggling
As it will never be
As it used to be
Struggle my dear, may I hear you
Sighing…
For the sigh may raise you high
Higher that the moon
And may you sing a song soon
My dear,
It is not yet clear
Keep struggling, I want to measure
How long you will keep up
Raising
Above and over the clouds
Like an eagle knowing
One day he will meet the ground
My dear,
It is not yet clear
As it will never be
But you have to be     struggling
I have to see you as an ant seen
Sailing a leaf trying to cross the river
I want to see you shiver
I want you to suffer
You have to struggle
My dear
And it is not yet clear
Keep scratching with the nails
It will never be clear.
My heart was harder than a stone,
Yet when she touched it,
It melted; so did my bone.
Through the eyes she reached it,
The touch was warmer than the moon.

Crazy am I since that noon?
When the sun fiercely shone,
Drawing a view on her face,
Beautifying the whole place,
As an everlasting boon,
If she did not disappear that soon.
some say love is a burning thing. that it makes a fiery ring.

so kiss her.
or don’t.
and always regret.
always bike home thinking.
always think of love.

she’s in a parking lot somewhere drinking cheap wine,
balancing on the bumper.
he’s on the river somewhere drinking cheap beer,
balancing boulders.

a dog sprints by and forgets all heartache.
he is happy.

the town and the people and the job and the dreams.
the nothings
and the everythings.
and the little life this is.

to slipstream years gone by.
one fire in the sky, or another in the hills
just west of town.
something said about the smoke.
we take a weekend to spool through the story of your folks.
film cans or video cassettes,
or home re-sets. rewind.

words and faces scrawled in a tome of note.
spoken little memories,
little mysteries.
stories to tell no one.
stories to tell those who will listen.

the boys with dirtbike brothers.
the brothers with drunken fathers.
the fathers with dead wives.
the wives with ancient mothers.
the mothers and their children.
and the children living well enough.
living calm, then free.
far away, then close.

an empire.
of highways and histories.
of songs and the souls they swing.
of old money/new money,
betrayal on the horizon.
blacktop jamborees and assassinations.
driveways and nicely neighborhood lit-upon lawns.
well-trimmed trees.
a never-ending tree of lovers,
grasped and gasping for the sky.
listen and wait.
for the sun to kiss the moon goodbye.

                              [a family and their dog.]

this chrysalis.
this coincidence that is us, on one good gust.
from heart to hand to sons and daughters.
synchronized to die and revive and imbibe along the ride.
a tableau of animalia.
feasting and sleeping and awoken
by the wide little world all around.

we are fires in the night. let us bathe you in our light.
I wrote this during the actual Two Bulls Fire of western Bend, Oregon 2014. The sky was lit orange like I have never seen it before, but poems about the sky and fire have been scribed to death. So I wrote about more than just fires, in fact nothing about fires, besides fires of the heart &/or, love.
you took
every bit of happiness
and stored it
in a fragile case

you took
all my love
and stored it there, too

so when
you dropped
my case

my happiness
and love
were shattered

and you
walked away
still whole
All throughout History,
It's always been a mystery.
The most unlucky of days,
On this day we change our ways.
Careful what we do,
Careful when we tie our shoe.
Stay in and lock your door,
Don't get up off the floor.
Black cats and spilled salt,
The broken mirror is not my fault!
Avoiding ladders and a sidewalk crack,
Being on guard we do not lack.
Some say it's a day of fun,
Others shiver, hide, and run.
Some say it's black magic that comes out today,
Some say that it's demons here to stay.
Whatever your superstition on this very day,
Everyone's wits will shred and fray.
The day of bad luck comes only so often,
Let's just pray it doesn't lead to a coffin.
Superstition is a way of life. Either you don't care or Friday the 13th is a terrifying day!
                    Friday The 13th™  By Nadia DeLevea
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