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Were we but a dream
from which
I have awoken

Were your words
but promises
you should not have spoken

At least take once more
my heart
as love token

and as day breaks
let it be
all that's broken
 Apr 2013 Joan Karcher
CharlesC
Crepuscular rays
science name for beauty
filtered Light...


Two weak sprinklers
coaxing green from dry blades
desert futility...?  


Steady wind blows
roars in tree branches
motor noise amplifies...


Blue paint droppings
pavement lines and splotches
patterns imagined...


Breathless biker
yield passage on steep path
shared success...?


Uprooted tree
branches to sky reach out
same questions...?


Bright setting light
yucca spears dead and alive
both reflect...


Dead logs
piled and waiting
tree dust...
Thinking back there was that time,
days when the sun shined - just for you
You took the long way
and peddled through the puddles
Green road - a tunnel of maples, undercover
letting go, no hands
Youth's fearless reign
of summer
 Apr 2013 Joan Karcher
Poemasabi
Happy day
Moving from
Old to new
Where goes the time when it flies?
Simplified by expression, and stained by clarity.
Smudge by lucidity
smeared by simplicity
tainted by intelligibility.
Tempus fugit as in time flies.
Sharply distressing with painful feelings
to the point of mental instability
morning or night
we become possessed with its mystic dealings.

Where goes the time when it runs?
Not a solitary explanation is found.
It happens and it won’t stop
until life terminates as well
without cause.
Derived of rationalisation
lacking understanding
short of justification
bursting with vindication
persistently and with conviction.

Where goes the time when it sails?
From the second that we’re born.
Where were we existing?
We cannot be so sure
Cannot recollect the past
Not for the first five of our years
Memory so blur, so shadowy
Hazy with distortions
obscure and confusing
Unit our mind starts slowly to recollect.

Where goes the time when it escapes?
The chronology of life so mysterious.
Nothing can solve its ambiguity
for time is a complex case
with an infinity of secrets.
What’s the obsession when we have so many setbacks
drawbacks and obstacles
obstructions and conundrums
to take care of before time perishes away
and leaves us stranded in oblivion.

Oh time, you magnificent of all mysteries,
the high and mighty of ambiguities.
Show us mercy and explain
we are not detectives of secrecies
your spell with us reflects on the whodunits.
Oh time of things past and yet to come
give us a clue as to what is to derive!
“Remember”
it softly replies “Make most of your lives”
“Once I fly away no one can have a replay”.
 Apr 2013 Joan Karcher
TJ King
Waking up there
next to you
is like being born
to a Symphony
of warm water-bells~

Your smiling eyes are light houses
where the ghost-light keepers
ring out their fears with silver bells

a lovely Symphony of bells
calling my ghost ship
of white noise and lonely violins

to the easy morning light
you wear like a crown
of laughing daffodils.
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