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Dear New Poet:

Then I'm your man,
your very own
Northern star,
one leg up of a
3 legged stool,
upon which all,
we, enthroned poets,
the world-over,
do rule

the honor you
bequeath me  
to be,
a first follower,

your very own
first responder,

cannot be
disdained
nor
diminished

this case,
this birth,
novice revival,
heart transplant,
makes it
the greatest
to be the first—

the quencher
of your thirst
so long in the parching,
the throat burnt

by a desert sojourn
of a now ended,
forty years

so come to me!

message me
a message,
find me a find,
your poem so fine,
I here now vow,
our embrace will
ne’er be broken

give me this
honorific!

let us together
be terrific,
raise our glasses,
arms entwined
toasting you  
all that mind and 
breast of yours,
bursting full of 
future~contains,
the full release of, 
bringing longer life
to us both

I am a father.
I am a grandfather.
I am a First Follower.
I am a First Responder,
for all who need a leg up,
so step upon my heart,
the first step upon a ladder
with no top, no end ensighted

my legs are as old as time, but,
measure me not by the rings and 
the metered scales of gray hair aging,
shock of white, a cain mark, wizard-wizened

but by the muscles
of my deep affection,
the solemnity of this,
my irrevocable promise

this,
the blessing
we both earn and make
when you write,
while we wait
in quiet attendance -
for all your good works,
your kept promises

Blessed
are You Lord our God, 
Ruler of the Universe
who has given us life, 
sustained us until now,
allowing
the reader and the writer, to reach,
meet, embrace and
greet this day,
this new born poem,
with hallelujahs

                                         together
love to chat & encourage new poets
 May 2018 Mara W Kayh
betterdays
the small meaness of it
shocked me,  really in
this day and age
you would think
we had worked our way
past this sort of petty thinking

but no, apperently there are still
social neanderthals out there
who, when seeing some one different
have to poke fun at them,

before i could voice my outrage
at their actions my boy came
to the defense of his friend
standing up and calmly saying
difference is good, if we were all bullies
like you...then the world would be horrible
then taking the hand of his friend
he turned his back on the instigators
and walked back over to me

never have i been prouder
my son and his mate who is  on the autism spectrum, were playing when confronted by ignorance, his response astounded me....so calm and brave..
 May 2018 Mara W Kayh
adriana
I'm here.
I am no one in particular.
I am a face in a crowd.
I am charted waters.
I am covered ground.
I am blurring into the lines.
I am collapsing in on myself.
All that I have left is my name.
I am not struggling.
I am not in love.
I am not fighting.
I am not feeling.
I am nothing but a name.
 May 2018 Mara W Kayh
adriana
my lipstick matches
the color of your blood on
my manicured hands.
 May 2018 Mara W Kayh
adriana
she was the maker, he was her muse
a creative girl with everything to lose

she colored her canvas with her bleeding heart
she loved him and watched her world fall apart

she got her heart broken but kept a blank face
knowing that there are some mistakes you can't erase

she gave up her art, a lover betrayed
her pure white mind turned a darker shade.
And then there were seven.
 Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh
Ann Beaver
If I could love
the limping
ugly
afraid
part of me
That I drag through the mud
and thorns

If I could let
the transparent
clawing
screaming
silhouette speak
Instead of kicking it
into the basement

If I could put
my deepest human essence
onto paper
for everyone to see

Then.
Then, I could be free.
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