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~~~

sometimes right and wrong,
good and bad,
are accurate single summaries of
the momentary episodes,
the essays,
that constitute the whole human voyage
to parts unknowable

there are but a handful of persons
who might fit the lightness
of your loveliest of theories

but how could you know
that long ago,
one declared independence from the
oppression of personal dependencies,
from either
admissible fear,
more than,
admirable courage

and yet,
those few,
those so very precious few,
a band, a squad, a fireteam
of successful piercers of
the bark of an ever scaling armor,
are warmth welcomed and comforted
within my hearts hearth,
under the protection
of my soul's furnace,
for welcoming flawed me,
fully,
without reservation

Nowadays,
I write mostly for
the lost children,
the lost loves,
the long agos of long ago,
those whose caring and loss,
scars and medals
somehow
were adjudged,
deemed too costly,
for everyday wearing

and for
those mates,
whose caring and the sharing
of their losses,
demands memorization, savoring,
writing down,
proofs of open boundaries

for me,
in the losing, is the saving,
in the poems that honor recall,

therein, thereof, and
thereby,
gaining
for our lives,
a modest, husbanded,
allowance,
a fund mutual,
of caring,
hard earned
and keeping us alive


~~~


October 26, 2015
8:48 AM
NYC
Embracing the power of thoughts,
Believing in the power of dreams,
Having ink as a way of release,
Yearning to put all feelings on paper,
Getting satisfaction from your written words,
And excited by new words.
Writing it all without fear of being "judged",
Writing because you can,
Writing because you should,
Writing because you must.
Its more than a hobby,its more of a lifestyle.
In silence comes God’s meaning to the heart
When I need it I find it there
To gently soothe the terror-stricken part
With tender compassionate care

No longer unseen and isolated
Trudging with troubles like boulders
I’m amazed to feel burdens abated
Deep pain subsides in my shoulders

Peace like a calm, flowing river I felt
Forgive me for the violence
I perpetrated against my own self
I will take heart in the silence

I know now’s the time to release the past
Forgiveness, love would-be talents
I must let go held resentments at last
To restore my inner balance

Carl Yung said we must climb up that mountain
With courage and strength for direction
My journey to Light flows like a fountain
As I make a sharp shift in perception
I struggle with meditation, silencing my "monkey mind" all the time.  This poem was inspired after meditating and then reading Yeats:
   "Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight;
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of morn."
                                               --WB Yeats
Back and Fourth I swing, my better sides hiding in the trenches of my mind.
My body is no mans land, caught between myself and I.
Violent vocabulary and assaulting alliteration load the barrels of my tongue.
This is self-protection, I'm burdened with armors against affection.
I spew sarcasm with venom, cold-blooded and serpentine.

You're the antidote and if I could I'd make you mine.
You crept upon me so slowly,
like a parasitic wasp you paralyze me.
Your growing maggots of nothingness made my stomach a home.
My soul a nutritious feast; my body a mindless drone.

I hear an hourglass shatter and time falls over my head.
Grains of sand sting like lead-weight reminders.
My time is fleeting.
Apathy comes to bed with me, protects me when loneliness bites.
Because life is out of the question when existence leaves you with 'mights'.
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