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If
If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
Libraries: lots of books,
but not an easy place to learn.
Indeed, the texts are tenets
that pin it down
and fix it so we can point and say
"there is where we worship knowledge."

We humans so love
to build shelters
where our hearts may safely gather dust.

But breathe deeply,
and plunge into the sun.
Or is it the river that shines so brightly?
It's sleepy-warm out,
but the water is cold
and perpetual wonderment is the humblest profession.

'Tis wisest to remember
that we know next to nothing!
Only then do we dare to walk the edge
of our outermost circles,
our most cherished philosophies
which encompass all our virtue and vice.
And only then do we dare to circumscribe it all,
putting our trust in our present being
instead of the prescription that our Past has written for us.

Our cherished morals, our good conscience,
are part of a bigger picture.
Take the next step
when the light flashes across your mind.
Shuck your previous assumptions
like the shackles they are
and embrace the new saving grace.

And watch. It fixates itself.
And then we pin it down and point and say
"there."
"there is what we worship, no more no less."

And then. O, and then!
It will be your turn to take my hand and say:
breathe deeply,
and plunge into the sun.
There's never been a better day
to break away.

Us folks never rise so high
as when we do not know where we are going.
It's far into the a.m. and I don't sleep
Cant seem to get you out,
Of my head
You're there
Still
The undead, rotten thing you are
I'm going to have to **** you,
Again
As I've murdered your memory hundreds of times
It stinks of death
As did your decaying heart
I've drown you in whiskey,
So many times
If I ever did love you,
You killed it, with that first bruise
When we were 16
All the makeup and lies
For shame
For ignorance
There are still blood stains here
They seep through the paint
My blood
My never ending, waking nightmare
I'm dead you know
You killed me
Maybe not my body,
But my soul
I feel nothing,
Save shame, rage
I'm going to have to **** you,
This fear of you
Your haunting memory,

Somehow.......

And I'm already dead
The dead never sleep.
tues.
exhausted piano teeth mozart pere
gnashing slashing sound barrier
stretching zoology beyond the bird
cannibals in the a-z azimuth

weds.
mirage of red awnings all-night resort
cannibals in the azimuth stairwell décor

thurs.
cold as leprosy embraced
yet somehow curled

fri.
frail departure voice to ****
height hair duck drake
cold as geology young rocks flame
(hidden within the blink of eye)
i have a face cut from ice
a heart pierced in a thousand places
so to remember
always the same voice
the same gestures
and my laughter
heavy
as a wall
between you and me

the ones who are most alive
seem the most still

behind the milky way
a shadow dances

our gaze climbs toward the stars
Many moons,
have passed over my headpiece,
as you leave me behind,
in moondust & ashes each night,

You collect on the bookshelves,
I keep here,
collecting on hearts with your light,
dusting my world with your beauty,
diminutives in bits of the white,

This is not the end of the journey,
 this a mere tiny part of the flight,
and I've not seen any more shiny,
or any star nearly as bright,

Though I am unable to see you now,
or touch your skin ever again,
or truly hear you with my ear,
I still miss you so my friend,

I know I cannot be near you now,
I cannot be where you are,
as you are but a twinkling light,
a brilliant & distant, star-

If it was not but for the moon dust,
my heart wouldn't,
be able to see you anymore either.

Ma Cherie © 2017
Idk inspired....and missing someone who has passed ❤ to you all! X - Ma Cherie!
It seems i cant escape
sleep would overtake wake and still it devastates
Depression ;
crushes me with marvelous aggression
Feast for the beast find me deep in its digestion...

Never did i see
the sun shine on me as i sat beneath a tree
Shady ;
victory thrown like Tom brady
Pride chopped off like umbilical on babys...

Lazy summer days
sorrow acrobatic
It set his mind a blaze  
tryed to find comfort in a sister softer soul
Left his heart contorted
for every bridge a toll
I guess ;
usually he'd cross and watch it burn  
Trying very hard to not forget the lessons learned..
for a black sheep
my name is sure
often
on the lips of those
who yell the
loudest that they
are the white sheep

and who act
like they are so
very comfortable in
clothe's besides their
own

while i wear the
same stains they
scream they don't have
with much more than
just
an ounce
of
pride

with much more like
the full price
of
my head held high
as if
the stains themselves
are the
very words
that they have caused
me
to bear
The brilliant,
Blazing,
Blinding sun
Upon a desert bloom speaks silently,
In all languages and none,
Telling the man squinting his eyes,
Glimpsing the unfiltered beauty,
"Be grateful."
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