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 Mar 2017 Essen Dossev
Kevin
i don't know where i am, sincerely.
i don't know how i got here, sincerely.
i must be lost, sincerely;
because, i am a vagabond.

it started out clean, the road ahead.
it grew towards change, the road ahead.
so many paths to choose, the road ahead.
because, i am a vagabond.

which shall i follow.
shall i mind their course.
shall i make my own;
because, i am a vagabond.

i know i saw a tree in the middle of a lake
i know i saw clouds of tremendous size collapse
i know i saw the water glow under the stars at night
because, i am a vagabond.

i don't know how i got here
i don't know how i lost these things
i don't know where i am, sincerely.
i don't know why i am, sincerely.

i know along the way i rested
i know along the way i found rest
i know along the way i felt i finally found my place to rest in peace
but i don't know how i got there.
and now i'm here, outside of my rest.

i don't know how i got here
i don't know where i am
i don't know where my rest is
because, i am a vagabond.

and now i'm here
i don't know where to go
i don't know which way to head
i don't know where i'm going
and i guess that is o.k.
because, i am a vagabond

one day i will see my path, and my road ahead
one day i will know where i am, and my road ahead
one day i will know how i got here, and my road ahead
one day i will have my place to rest, and my road ahead
because, i am a vagabond.
 Mar 2017 Essen Dossev
Hannah
Blood
 Mar 2017 Essen Dossev
Hannah
I laid myself down
beneath the summer moon.
The breeze was warm,
and grass was cool.
I gazed at the trees
swaying in the breeze,
and listened to the stream
flowing free as could be.
I want to be the water
running wild as a dream.
I want to be the rain
dripping off of the leaves,
but what I want even more
is to be the blood in your veins,
to take over your heart,
and soak up all your pain.  
I would make you forget
all the hate and disdain.
I would fill you with joy,
and kiss your soul everyday.
~ I would take it all away ~
Yesterday is blue,
tomorrow's fading;
we'll fall into your sunrise
as I'm yours for the making.
~~ Stay with me. ~~
I'm the ship that doesn't sail right:
no wind is strong enough.
Weak in strength
and short in length,
I am tired and over-rough.

I'm the colourless sunrise:
never beautiful enough.
Red in the wrong ways
and blue on warm days,
yet here I am, if I'm enough.
~~ Need me. ~~
There are words within me
that flow through keys into music,
or ink into paper,
when I write the ballads of sadness and love
that are contained inside my head,
yet nothing comes to my tongue
when I stand in front of you.
I have never been verbal,
one of the poets who stands
and speaks their beauty to others, tongues
of silk weaving their words into impermanent art
that will soon be forgotten.
Instead, I write poetry
which your eyes will never see
in the hopes that I will find a way
of saying how you make me feel inside.
The way you capture me
and manage to see me as an entirely new being.
The way you make my laugh permanent
with a single image, childish and playful.
The way you are so unapologetically you.

All of it.

I want something just like this,
I want everything like this,
and I don't know how to say it.
~~ Maybe, in my silence, these words will be enough for you. ~~
You kiss me as if
I was lost and you never
stopped looking for me.
~~ Are you relieved or confused now that I'm here? ~~
two moons dance in the light of the Sun
on a distant shore the reflection of one
bounces on waves and laps the clean rock
an oasis unseen, unknown by the flock
they step from the waters
make their way to the beach
from the old world Atlantis
to the new world they reach
removing their headgear
they breath in the night
inhale the silence
rewards of their flight
a thousand plus years from the past
they return
suspended
intended
they are back to
discern
who shall remain to salvage their home
that once was their garden
their Eden
their Rome
like the ancients before
it is time for rebirth
and the few that are spared
shall renew Mother Earth
 Mar 2017 Essen Dossev
Stu Harley
if
my soul
where
skylark
wings
that
breathe
the air
oh
skylark
are you there
 Mar 2017 Essen Dossev
P Chartier
I saw him there alone
Eyes darkened and drained
as if all of the sweet wine
had been replaced with dark black coffee.

I had not known that it had been
Three years since his wings were replaced
with short ladders that had a way
of building him up, and breaking him down.

"The skyline looks different from down here"
I rise up and make us coffee,
Sugar and cream in both,
But this is not enough

His designs are not yet discovered
And his buildings are crumbling down
But he is down there and I am up here
a  wingless plane attached to a bird with rainbow feathers.
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