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 Aug 2017 mikecccc
wordvango
so much to yell for
so much to tell
I yell
I appreciate those who listen
Like ash
I float
Burned up
Hollow
I grasp to cling to the physical
As I crumble and flake apart
 Aug 2017 mikecccc
B L Costello
Is tomorrow enough?
It has to be,
Today is almost gone you see,
Yet here I linger,
Alone at last,
My memories repeat the past,
The moon does rise,
Still I am inspire,
Embracing my muse,
Thou I am tired,
In the dark
I smoke,
I wait for the day
I will meet tomorrow….
Unafraid
©B L Costello 2016
 Aug 2017 mikecccc
saranade
I have a heart full of cement
Solid... Permanent
I've sang your lament over and over again
But every song has the same intent
Like something permanent.
I regret not having a patent on your scent,
Or the way your teeth are bent or broken.
Like at some point a decent person
        Had a cruel accident
                 But, against your jaw
..........A fists descent...
...To punish you..........
And forever augment that one percent of you.
I don't know the intent of the event
But, I do know you underwent some hell
To get to me, in our present
But, that doesn't matter my gent
My denouement is becoming distant
         ...you are here...
                      And there you went.
But, our two souls are water and powder
We create cement...
**Permanent
I'll miss you my baby boy
 Aug 2017 mikecccc
Leif
Oh I am tired of soft words
I want to yell and scream and curse
I want my heart on the wind
Not inside my foul chest

All my thoughts and pains
Pressed in, pushed down and falling over
Struggling to find space to rest
like a subway with no exits

the panicked mothers’ child cries for all to hear
with no one kind enough to let her sit
and comfort the innocent cries of her babe

the constant chatter and commotion
of all the people, and all the languages
so many words said
and so few understood

the pushing, shoving and pulling
all for the golden prize that has become the seat
if only to sit and rest

all my thoughts and pains
warring for a place to sit
but there is no place
there are only the doors
the doors which never open
enjoy
 Aug 2017 mikecccc
martin
xXx
 Aug 2017 mikecccc
martin
***
Nothing you write
is yours alone
every word
borrowed
on loan
only from you
comes some wit
to decide the order
in which they are writ
 Aug 2017 mikecccc
martin
In a country churchyard
Near the shade of a yew
That's where I'll be resting
And you’ll be there too

We'll be long past caring
Or fussing over things
We'll be admiring angels
And their gorgeous wings

Just reach out your hand to me
And I will reach out mine
As in life, together again
Forever and all time
My parents are 91 and 92.
I recently took them to their
reserved plot in a country
churchyard .
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