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Park smoked as we walked,
Lost trees of autumn smoldered,
  .  .  .  Cold sun in her eyes.
The heron spreads his wings and preys.
His stony stand a beachhead sloughing
The salt sea, a sepulchered wading.

Leaven the broken bred, unshell
The teeming waters, a fisher of mermen
Unlordly low this lying father,
His wings are palms,

His rock a mount, his wings a bay,
And deafness, tears in the outer shores
And exaulted seas the forgiven waves,

Swells the briny blood and kelp.
Vains are streaming to the fisher king,
Lordy he lands the lying father
His wings are psalms.

A tiny flood that arcs the sky
Marks lord in miniature, a King
Fisher flies, His wings are
The waters calmed.

The otters bask and preen, mermen
Jostle in the laddered rays of the sun
They mark their surf, insouciant play,

Wavering the fisher of men, he sways,
Simply they circle in song singing hours,
Dancing as do the murmuring waves,
Their strokes are psalms.
Hour glass body,
Excited— fingers fondling,
Love my blue guitar.
Waking angel spoke:
'I am water— born in fire,
Lord, what have I done?'
I am here, I'm home
Dwelling shadow, all alone
No echo to be heard
Long time, no write.
 May 2013 Mike Winegar
Mads
it's suicide
really,
cigarettes.

but the wistful
thin milky smoke
reminds me of peace
that I never feel anymore.

the drag
the heat
and I drag my lungs behind me on a gravel road
but the hit
I take
feels
safe

craving
to wrap my lips
around a death trap
an expensive
killer
beautiful
cigarette
I want to smoke cigarettes, but I can't. I think they look beautiful. But they do such horrible things to your body.
Beyond the massif peaks of Europa,
Above the ancient pillars of Heracles
Where rain and ocean are weaving,
Lays a fabled kingdom born of waves
And noble strands, my beaten hearts
Haunting, the lost, lush sylvan lands
Of Galicia.
                   Where Incomparable, dark
Haired women, mythic, of Amazonian
Fairness, side the valleys and moors
Of soon forgotten dreams and secretive
Wolves slide amongst warmed runnings
Of the ram and moans of ewe, where
Way bountiful seas are over spilling,
In octopus and pearly gemmed shells,
The scalloped pilgrimages unfolding,
Where incense burns with under stars
Encased, the lost Atlantean temples
Of Egyptian sands and storied Gaels,
The clad forests of wandering Titans,

Where snow white beaches end forever
Unmapped in told footsteps, castaway,
As was the magi gift of treasured yards,
Enlightenments, of old and golden isles
Pearling the coasts, sailing the sweet airs
Crossing Iberian gates, to Elysian, eternal,
Galicia.
 May 2013 Mike Winegar
Marian
Behold, she dances in my room at Night
To nocturnal melodies played sweetly
Under the full Moon's rays of pretty light
That dance like the Doll ever so sweetly
She is dancing ever so gracefully
To the piano of pristine beauty
It is she I shall always love to see
For she always loves to dance happily
She is my Enchanted Doll full of love
And I'm glad that I see her in my mind
She's one the Fairies Enchanted above
And I'm glad to see her dance in her mind
She's dancing to the sweetest melody
Happily she's dancing in harmony*

~Marian~
Inspired by the piece of music for the Piano called: Doll's Dream by Oesten. ~<3
 May 2013 Mike Winegar
Gwendolyn
There are people all around me
Though I see no one
Gray blurs, different shapes
But no faces
I am alone in a sea of people
No one will listen
No one will listen to my story
The one that is buried in time
I could scream
But no one would hear
Not the fish, nor the birds
Only me to hear my story
The story buried in time
Though it does not affect the todays
It affects the yesterdays
The yesterdays from which we came
To ignore it is to ignore ourselves
To ignore what ignites our passion
And our will
And our will to live
Our immense will to survive
The story buried in time tells
Of life in heaven
Life without corruption
A perfect life
A life where we may see love
Not hate or greed
Just everything as it was meant
To be seen
Pure and light
Black and white
No gray blur
Na unrecognizable faces
Just black and white, love and hate
A place where we are not welcome
Not in our mortal lives
But our immortals souls have
The secret password
Till then we are banished
We know what we do
But not what we did
Because that story
Because we are ignorant
Is buried in time
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