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 Oct 2019 lmnsinner
Nat Lipstadt
called me in for a consultation,

lean in,” he suggested, with nearly closed eyes,

“see the youthful optimistic predecessor,
the conqueror, who could not be defeated,
his thin images within still resides

the man of firm voice who when he spoke
above the rabble, all fell silent, and when he looked,
all could share his visionary insights and did not hesitate,
saying, we will do and we will listen,
but to follow, just did, wrapped
in your confidence

I want that boy back, smooth skinned, fearless,
do not return him till the shadows have dissipated,
the bruised lines of worry have evaporated,
the hands look unscathed, then raise them in
self-supplication, demanding satisfaction,
then in success, born overhead, marking appreciation,

let us adventure forth, straightening tilting windmills,
punishing renegades and dragons fearful,
saving damsels who waited just for our arrival,
shedding courage upon those who watch us,
cheering and being cheerful

here is your mighty pen,
cut sharp the poems out from the within,
read them slow, winding to now crooked old friends,
who remember everything dear, their youth of no fear,
the best of past, dreaming poems, mist born, fog vapor gone,
of black and waiting white, worthy words all revived

return to me in blazes,
sumptuous colors of derring-do,
I need that child brave, for perhaps
you have not noticed my flaking slivering skin,
the expanding cracks that cross my images,
just like you!

I need you to rebirth you,
I need you to rebirth me!

8/16/19 reflections from a blue glacier
 Apr 2019 lmnsinner
you returned as you left
sure-foot fleet & elegant

black eyes see all and one
you always saw everything

perspectively right or wrong
we two were dangling

precipice arighted you
found us to be true

we won the day
Life and Time
are an illusion
only in the minds
of we humans.
All other living
things on this Earth,
pay to either, not the
slightest attention.
The human brain is a
marvelous tool, until
we over think everything.
Perhaps innate animal instincts
are better. When our mistakes
and greed lead to ruin, who
then will survive? Us or them?
Sepia sown as best it can
Where you and I, as one, once ran
Across, beyond a savoured sea
Where lust became reality.
Where spiraled lust, intwined, entrenched
Left you gasping, pale, enbenched...
a figment of a thought, now lost what cost, what cost?
 Aug 2018 lmnsinner
If I close my eyes
maybe you can’t see me
and I won’t have to lie
here, still and silent -
on my side
of the great divide
that’s come between us -
the quiet nights
no longer dreaming
go on and on -
living, breathing
beating hearts, forgotten
seasons lost -
in distant canyons
we once walked
our paths entwined -
companions once
leaving shadows
aligned in the sand -
in the canyons
where we left our hand
prints on a wall -
side by side
you and I.
 Jun 2018 lmnsinner
harlon rivers
a ****** of Crows
gather Carpe Diem;
fluffing their throat feathers,
the dead-weight
each unshod foot
bending the world below

the horde of cleft feet align
      leaving no footprint behind ―
bowing the antique
frayed telephone wire
party-line swaying with the wind
over the washed out road;

at any moment
the land-line
might break
     from the overload ―  
level with the ground ―
but no one
on  earth
    even cares ...

they've  got
the whole world
in their palm
      beneath the sky ―
and the crows
have wings
    to fly away ...

harlon rivers
June   2018
The intelligence of crows vs. humans starring into a "smart phone"
— HANG UP!!! LOOK UP!!!! Go build a garden —

Carpe Diem:    Used as an admonition to seize the pleasures of the moment without concern for the future.
 May 2018 lmnsinner
patty m
Each day the garden dies a little more
and  I let it.
Whitewashed jasmine
smoking in the sun

A lifeless haze locks me in
concrete; a stone puzzle,
parodied and now mistook
where pieces lie,
how little one gleans beneath concrete.

Blurred lines
I cannot thread this maze
beneath hapless verse.
dwarfed by woe

Tall grass of the floodplain,
the flat meandering river,
a flight of cranes, startled,
rises from the opposite shore.
too silent this
white shadow
intervening time
Sorrow is a constant wind blowing,
today is the 3rd anniversary of my precious husband's death
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