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The geosynchronous
Geppetto One
With us orbits
Round our sun;
Blinking down,
Ringing up,
We're on lines
Like marionettes;
Transmitting selfies,
Receiving otheries.
Time to be Pinnochio,
Cut some ties,
Get up and go,
See eye to eye
When toe to toe,
Watch how small
Our noses grow.
 Mar 2015 Jeff Dingler
CMD
grace
 Mar 2015 Jeff Dingler
CMD
The machinery
of grace is simple.

We are made of
newspaper and smoke.
 Mar 2015 Jeff Dingler
Curing
Oh, what a gift,
...Stopping time's flow.
Just to hold you forever,
...Without letting go.

...Racing and burning,
...Forever returning,
...I loved you each day sure as the Sun loves to fly.
...Rising to Day.
...Falling to Night.
...Forever returning,
...Till the day I should die.

Yes, a gift and a curse,
...Our lives but a verse,
...We dance through the stars, as around us they burst.

A bleeding heart,
A world apart,
By sunsets final glow.

Loves tender fruit,
Pure to the root,
Deep in my heart you sow.

Through misty mornings clouding sight,
Through frozen winter rain.
I know tis true...
it beats for you...
my heart and all its pain.
read from bottom to top*


down
   us
     bring
            to
               try
           they
when
        smoke
   like
     rise
We'll
Trying some concrete poetry again.
Change is necessary.
Right?

Change is a good thing?
Right?

Change is
Scary and confusing.

Change scares the hell out of me.
Change leaves me in a state of frustration.

Change can heal the soul and tear it apart.
Leaving little pieces scattered about.

But I must think of little caterpillars that turn into beautiful butterflies.

Change is necessary.
These are my thoughts from my morning commute. The city was tearing down a house I have passed by thousands of times. It was a landmark on my life path and now it is gone. Will the memories associated with that house be ripped from me as well?
Monsters without form roam menacingly
in her mind's dark night;
the light of her magical lamp, on them falls
transforms one by one to poetic delight.
 Mar 2015 Jeff Dingler
CapsLock
As a kid time wasn't the same,
a day feelt like forever
and everything was a game.

Now I'm a ****** up adult,
in a world fast and insane,
the game now feels so occult.
Why does everything feel so strange?

Life feels like a weird insult.
Why did all things have to change?
Change is good they'll say to me,
but my craving still remains.
 Mar 2015 Jeff Dingler
Lindy
No laughs and no apologies
The door was left ajar
“You may assist yourself at the mezzanine.”
girls cascade as men pose
strategically
in shark skin suits
like swimming tessellations
corners fit against corners
bait fish schools
Moving in murmurations
No one ever looks up
at the ocean top glass ceiling
Their eyes are aimed downwards
waiting to see a massive shadow rising up
from the sea floor
No one knows what goes on down there
down where the sand is so cold,
where the flesh of the bait fish drift and
the ***** pick at remnants on whale bones.
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