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Only a million sparkling stars of seized opportunities
the golden glow of the moon of luck besides
the Sun of relentless hard work can make
the future shine golden bright
 Feb 2017 Jim Timonere
Ma Cherie
clouds of linen stretch her skies,
changing depths of blue,
lovely is this -
her Earthrise,
she's something,
from my view,

I look at her
my lovely Earth,
and I,
her soulmate - Moon,
if she shall perish,
so will I,
I hope tho not too soon,

I wonder what inhabits her,
of what's alive out there,
I wonder what she thinks of them,
or if no time to care,

she was designed just perfectly,
a gift in her to give,
sadly took for granted she,
in ignorance can't live,

I wonder if her people know,
the sacred of her planet,
or if destruction comes in flames,
to fight it or to fan it,

they must know
somewhere within,
she's beautiful but dying,
I hope this not the last Earthrise
I hear her gently sighing,
then a thunder roars within,
on knees -
alone,
she's crying,

Hear my voice my sacred people
I'm wounded, I cannot fight
will you hear my final call
before the last goodnight ?

Ma Cherie © 2017
Started writing this about the Earthrise photo and then just became that vantage point. It made me cry ;/ love you guys ❤
I feel so broken and so paper thin.

I wish I had the mentality to feel even a tiny sting.

These blades they lie and shout evil things.

I want to run away to you but I lost my wings.

Now the devil hangs on my shoulder and tells me to do evil things.

Darkness and despair infiltrate my blood and cloud my mind.

I realize now they brought me something I didn't know I was trying to find.
2 weeks clean now
 Feb 2017 Jim Timonere
SE Reimer
~

i recall the ward,
smell of antiseptic
and new paint blended,
with the stench of
dried on bandages,
the smell of
rotting flesh,
the cries of men
too old to cry,
faces now, too
burned for tears,
could only wonder why.
the clang of
stainless steel
bowls that held the
closest thing to soothing,
unquenchably thirsty skin.
for these,
souls sent off to war,
though i was
but a boy,
my father,
was a preacher,
sent to save
these men from hell...
i knew already then
hell was...
a place already known,
seen and felt;
and flames...
these men had walked.
and when asked to pray,
believe you me,
pray i did,
that these images,
and these men...
would all go away.

~

*post script.

some chuckle when i, born in 1960, tell them i remember Vietnam.  yet i still weep when i remember.  Vietnam was to this young boy watching formations of fighter jets taking off for a battlefield he could not know; accompanying his father to visit with and pray for the GI’s in the burn ward of Sagami-Ono’s US Army Hospital near Yokohama, on the main island of Japan, a few minute’s drive from what we then called home.  the sights, sounds and smells of Vietnam are etched forever, without having ever set foot on it’s soil.  my five siblings have no such recollection, leading me to believe... either they were never invited or... their prayers were answered.
I watch the water
beam from the sun
and that is what you call
making love
The Earth is the greatest poet I know.
I pluck at her expression
every so often
merely attempting
to translate her lyrics
into something,
just something
we can all feel and understand
My salutes to you, Earth.
"I think therefore I am"
but
not this man who I see
whilst having my tea,

the bathroom mirror mimics me
and yet if I don't look
I won't cross the lines that meet
in crows feet.

Head's full of cotton wool today
and as if to say, I told you so,
cotton buds blossom
between each toe.

This cannot be real.

I watch as the faces
congeal and
set into one,
if I am
then it goes on too

Saturday mirrors me blue.

The wake up call
bells ring
rainfall.

It'll clear
and as I peer again
it has.

I still look the same
but different.
 Feb 2017 Jim Timonere
Pax
cloudy
 Feb 2017 Jim Timonere
Pax
There are days
inside the shelter of my core
it rained and most days are cloudy.
In my core I’ve wish the sun would shine
at day, and the star will glow at night, after
a
l
l
*
t
h
i
s
time
it never did
anymore
like before.
i still have lots to learn in this concrete poetry thingy, because i really wanted to formed it like an umbrella, looks like i failed, it looks like a lampshade...sigh...thanks for reading.
 Feb 2017 Jim Timonere
Pax
a step
 Feb 2017 Jim Timonere
Pax
in passing of time,
as we grow old,
as i learned the wisdom
of the good and bad
in the rhythm of life
i stood still -
  in pause,
       waiting
              in silence.
at a passing thought
you'll never know
what's out there -
uncertain in most
                      cases.
in beating the odds
a step yet to have taken
    i only took a detour
for a time, just for a short while
yet I wouldn't have imagine
years has passed never did
i take a step...

dear readers,

i hope you would not think i have such deep regret buried deep inside,   i don't have those as of yet and hope not in the future, it is just that this nagging feeling that you've wasted your time, or i feel like i wasted too much of my time engaging on something  that i did not learn to loved. I'm writing now, because my heart seems to be so cloudy, and feel like crying for no reason... i hope by writing this, i'll find relief on the nagging feeling...

thanks again for reading.
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