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Incompossible

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  not mutually possible:
INCONSISTENT, INCOMPATIBLE

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inconsistent, yes,
incompatible, never

we have lived and loved
each other since
a singular moment
in grade school

profound!
(what a perfect compositional word!)
friendship, intuitively embraced,
circumstances dictated an
on/off interspersed
coexistence decades in length,
a hit or miss geographical
distancing,
thst technology overcame
with no evaporative loss
of 
sensational connectivity
across great times and
greater distances

we trialed and
errored our landlines,
for a time,
we lived together,
then nearby,
with other spouses, who knew
and tolerated, our exceptional
to the rules of coexistences,
we were closer than close,
the space between us was of wafer size, nearly invisible to the naked eyes of others, but unchanging
as much as it was unique and
uncharted
periods of absence of years measurable
and the first conversation
began exactly where the long ago prior had ceased

never fully accepted,
surely not ever
fully
tolerated + understood,
we stumbled upon a word,

incompossible

that captured the
drama, the hopefulness,
the hopelessness of
our separated conjoining
as a summary perfect
of us

a true tale,
a novel of pro-found
loss and gain
that cannot be be told
or totaled,
a sum of summary,
an unavowed marriage of
souls with no legality,

and yet

by its very in-completed nature,
it was perfected by it's very unending undefinable defiance
of definition:
we made the
incompossible,
possible,
the incompatible,
patible,
unfounded by circumstances,
unbounded in our intuition,
we yet live in a hopeful
state of unfulfilled totality of


almost fufillment
advis any typos pleade
You used to be the place
Where I’d unravel all my sins
Now I don’t know where to start
Because I don’t know where you end
I don't know you yet,
and I'm already falling in love.

I've thought about expressing you,
but I don't have time,
I'm describing you in verse.

I spent 100 letters on your eyes,
58 on your hair,
and 76 on your smile.

Let's not even talk about your intelligence,
charisma, and tenderness.

I write and describe you,
and then I remember.

That each verse,
is a manifesto,
for the universe.
She asked me
If I had ever been
In love

Then I
Realized that I
Had never not been
In love

I realized
I  wanted
Nothing  
Other than love

I think there is
Only one
Off-ramp
From the journey
Of love

That off-ramp
Is judgment

A critical heart
Combined with
A critical eye
Fills one with
The opposite
Of love—judgment

Judgment colors
The mind with
Negativity

Until the sin of
Judgment
Is displaced
By a lust
For love,
One will not find peace

When love invades
One’s heart
The body finds peace

When love is abundant
And bountiful
There is no fear
Of wasting love
Nor spilling love
For love can grow
Anywhere

So am I
In love?

Yes, I am
In love
Excessively
Wastefully and Willingly
love, questions, judgment
Down
Down,
Through the sulfurous haze,
Dante stumbled,
Lost in a
Fiery
Maze

Is this hell or a hammer film set
He asked himself,
Grinning with regret

A demon
Dressed in tattered lace,
With
Fangs and makeup,
A boneyard
Face

"Welcome to the pit, where
Sin abide
And
Dracula's got a VIP ride

The first circle
Fog and gloom
Looking for a friendly face,
I hope to find one soon

Next the gluttons,
Oh what a feast,
A banquet of souls
That never ceased

The brimstone smoked,
And ghosts of
Sinners,
Just happily joked
"Is this hell or a cryptic comedy?"
Dante laughed, lost in absurdity

The third,
greedy souls did cry,
Stuck in the mud,
Can't buy a thing
To
Satisfy

The Sinners dined in darkness,
Yet they slept
Until Dante shouted
"This is the wrong set"

So down to the deepest depths,
Where bat's flapped
And twisted,
Dante's glasses
Got slightly
Misted

But in the end
Dante found a seat,
In hells own cinema
Complete with a
Treat

A demon with a smile,
Made popcorn pop
And said
"You're in for a shock"

Dante sat back with his eternal snack,
And watched
As the credits rolled
"I'm never coming back"
 Jun 1 Ken Pepiton
Cadmus
🎭

I
miss
the
time
when
my
smiles
were
real.

👺
This piece reflects the quiet resilience that grows in the shadow of sadness. It’s a reminder that even the faintest hope has the power to restore the sincerity of a smile.
 Jun 1 Ken Pepiton
Piyush
Hope is a lie,
It stays within a die.
No one sees it,
No one needs it,
Yet you feel it.
Your wounds plead it,
But you just bleed it.
Hide it, confide it,
Still, you seed it—
Cause you need it.

Don’t disturb her,
Don’t absorb her,
You don’t deserve her.
You hear it,
You bear it.
Don’t say it,
Just obey it.

You rely on others,
You cut your own feathers.
A lie it is,
Yeah, that’s all it is.
You want it—
But you already have it.
I hate you
When you smiled, I smiled
I wanted you to be happy

I hate you
When you were successful, I cheered
I always believed in you

I hate you
When you're dressed up, I gasp 
I am taken by you yet again

I hate you
When you grew, I admired
I knew you were meant for more

I hate you
When you moved on, I stayed
I am always waiting for you

I hate you
When you faded away, I cried
I will only be a memory to you

I hate you
When you were in my life, I knew
I truly did love you 

I hate you
Despite everything, I begged 
That I could actually hate you
Guardaste mis secretos:  
los poemas que arranqué del pecho  
y lancé hacia tu oscuridad.  

Esos versos torpes,  
hojas arrugadas por el llanto,  
pedazos de alma  
que terminaron en tu vientre de metal.  

Nadie supo que fuiste  
el horno donde quemé  
cartas de "siempre"
y sobres de "nunca más".  
Tus esquinas aún huelen  
a tinta derretida.  

Sepultaste las cenizas  
sin preguntar nombres.  
Ahora esos papeles  
—los que sobrevivieron al fuego—  
alumbran otras noches ajenas.  

¿Quién notaría que eres  
solo una papelera?  
Que en tu silencio  
hay más verdades  
que en todos los poemas
que aún no he publicado.  

Mel Zalewsky.
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