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Josh Bass Sep 2015
Morning thoughts swirl under the last night's char
Slowly body comes alive from the coffee dark as tar
An exercise I do for my self
A creative act I do for my health
My heart I keep in a Five Star
  Sep 2015 Josh Bass
Mike Essig
by Octavio Paz**

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.

Translated by Eliot Weinberger
Josh Bass Sep 2015
Scratch out a little something
a honed blade
a sharpened pencil
paint thinner creates a subdued hue
hands ache
and fingers bleed
What once was nothing,
Now, you are lighter
a surface scratched
have left pieces of yourself

A sculpture
A canvas
Raw Nerves
A poem
Been a while
Josh Bass May 2015
Clockwise against the blue light
Silhouette against a 70 mile speed limit
"I let the music take over my soul, body, and mind."
It looks like an ant with wings
Hitchiking it's final ride
Counter Clockwise against the blue light
It takes off and lands again
The wheel shakes as my unbalanced tires reach 75
I turn the volume **** two notches up
Clockwise against the blue light
"The stress burns my brain,
like acid raindrops."
  May 2015 Josh Bass
"They call us weak,"* I said through tears
And she was on the floor, staring into space, wrapped in a blanket and her own arms, as if she could squeeze the grief out of her.
"But we are not weak.
People who run are weak
People who hide are weak
People who quit
Are weak
But we aren't weak.
We're just raw."

My voice shook and broke
And she looked up at me and we shared a moment
Of suffering strength.
And for better or worse
In horrible, shocking, painful ways
We are both learning that no one has the right
To ever call us cowards again.

And I walked home,
Moonlight pale and sharp at my back,
In the very center of the street.
And this morning I woke up just at dawn
With the soft grey light seeping through my window
And into my white skin
A cloud come to shadow the moon
And I was sad
And I was lonesome
And I was betrayed
For the first time in many years
I was not
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