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To the opinions of others
Or the opinion of authors in books,
Unless I agree with my own reasons.
8/4/2024
Truth needs no audience
or vows of acceptance
The eagle flies highest
— when flying alone

(Dreamsleep: April, 2024)
Mood swings
no

see saws
maybe

but definitely
not monkey bars

and what does it matter
anyway

you don't write
or call

I get it though

you're too busy
but aren't we all
A moody abstract riff
Fear mongering mind.
Dreams forever filled with fright.
Life devoid of peace.
You used to sit right there
by the dinner table
scents of coffee
light coming through the window
we looked outside
small breeze
made the trees dance
orange sky
yellow fields

the grass is not greener
on the other side
spring is knocking
on my window
where are you?
I've made us some coffee
poured you a cup
opened the window
I'll wait here for you
i read the poems
(perhaps not poems)
maybe, perhaps?

they are crying their hearts out
reaching

for that feeling
innate
and pristine

a howl for love

sadness

faith and joy

those tortured *******
their words trumpet,

"I am here!"

all too human
and i will not read you
anymore
this nascent melody
of us tortured souls.
Star pupils, interstellar eyes,

gazing across the frozen nebula

at stick figures in radiation suits,

lovers intertwined with reactant valves,

planted into unearthly soil,

a distant light from over our shoulder,

the good comet returns,

there might be an escape pod

for intangibles after all,

and once inside, images of moonbase love

and alien encounters,

that neither mocks the comically misjudged

visions of yellowed science fiction,

nor longs for some utopian future,

an environment that begs escapism

without denying humanity
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