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 Mar 2015 Helen
Rai
Missing
 Mar 2015 Helen
Rai
A missing piece
That's how I'm feeling
Like I'm missing you
And the tears just fall uncontrollably
I find it hard to breathe
Silent in my own darkness
And you on the other side of knowing
If I you walked passed me you probably wouldn't give me a second glance and I cant say id recognise you with the lines of years gone by
But know this
You told  me of how they all loved you and I stayed silent
We laughed and joked and you never knew
And you held my heart and I stayed silent
Your friendship ment more
Your betrayal
Your ****** words in rhythm
And still I loved you
That was the moment I knew
I would love you
But to expect more was just a figment of illusion
All is well
But in these dusty corridors I still here you whistling your tune
And I miss you more
I just miss you more than I should
Regardless of
your interests,
no matter how fascinating;
your spirituality,
no matter how robust;
your intentions,
no matter how pure;
your experiences,
no matter how profound;

nary a soul is made exempt
from etiquette and respect:

People will remember how you make them feel
more readily than what you did or didn't do
(though the two surely aren't mutually exclusive!)

Point is:
don't be disrespectful or hold others in contempt
simply because you have dissimilar tastes or perspectives:
One should learn to navigate the discrepancy
and desire to come upon mutual understandings.

That's called Philosophy.
It's not for the feint of Heart.
It's also not what you read of it;
it's by what you live and why.

What are your virtues?
Which, if any, is your patron deity at this stage of your life, and why?
Define the terms: Music, Art, and God.
Who's your favorite writer?

See,
I may disagree,
but we can look on the bright side:
now we have something to discuss.
Finally, some much-needed food for thought!

I grow weary of *Philosophobia.
Yeah, I made up the word Philosophobia. Get over it.

Happy Pi Day! 3.14.15
 Mar 2015 Helen
Lily Mae
Why is it all I want
I simply can't have
 Mar 2015 Helen
bones
Dark-eyed poet
 Mar 2015 Helen
bones
Dark-eyed poet
in the long night
come and burn
your time with me
let's set our whole lives
on fire tonight
and breathe each other's
smoking dreams..
 Mar 2015 Helen
Joel M Frye
a tender shoot once felt the sun
beneath its snowy comforter
and dared to peek a tendril out

the promise of an afternoon
and sun's love on its eager face
bespoke a need for nourishment

despite mistrust of fickle wind
with wolf of winter prowling still
the stripling brazenly rose up

and winter gratefully stopped by
to drape a coat of ice upon
the startled stalk who sought the sun

who hadn't time for warm caress
in early February dusk
 Mar 2015 Helen
Stephen E Yocum
He made the stairs up from the yard,
Without falling even once.
Entered the house with a feeble little
skip and a bound of renewed energy,
Wagging his long crooked tail,
wearing the shaggy faded yellow
coat of an aged Labrador.
Loose skin and bone where once firm
muscles shown.
Nearly blind and fully deaf he still managed
to grab up an unclaimed tennis ball from
off the floor. Tooth and gummed it a few times
then flopped down on his rug, exhausted and spent.  
Sixteen summers and winters lived,
Loving companion, faithful friend,
Raising my grandsons to the ages of seven and ten,
Slept by their beds and protected them.

The mobile Vet has come, it's the needle not the gun.
I can not attend, too soft of heart,
I've buried too many canine friends.
My son is stoic, tending to what must be done,
But later alone, he will grieve and weep as I have done,
He is after all his father's son.

Rest in Peace Bennie you brought our family much joy.
Bennie is buried next to my recently passed Boxer dog,
Max;  right here on our farm and both shall remain ever
close and remembered.
 Mar 2015 Helen
bones
She learned the story at school
of the son of the lord of us all,
and it has her convinced
though he's not been seen since
and he isn't returning her calls.
 Mar 2015 Helen
bones
keys
 Mar 2015 Helen
bones
she leaves
everything
on a page,
all her sorrow,
her love
and her rage,
and I truly believe
she will write
herself free
of the jailers
who fastened
her cage.
(can't-sleep-remix)
she lives
inside out
on the page

in secret
but one of  
these days

I truly believe
her words
will be keys

that pull back
the bolts
of her cage.
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