Shall be
Remembered
Taken in with every touch
Into my very last nerve
Every fiber of my being
Make me whole my
Soul find heaven
My life have meaning

That last first kiss
I shall savor taste
I shall be united for once
When I taste her lips
Meant for only
Me to find
From the beginning

Just her
And
Paradise

The night appeared in my imagination. He counted the time.
Then smiled, he wanted me to hide.
I saw him, clearly, put on his hands upon his straight face.
He took a rest in the shoulder of the tree. But, I puzzled like a flea.

When I caught my own breath, I could see the shadows of someone’s death.
I got tremble things on me. Suddenly, the place was so balmy.
“Are you ready, buddy?” the night shouted on me from distant.
I lost my answer, my soul, and even my own role.
“I will hit your back with a full sack of pretty facts”
The night said again, again. That made me eerie, then.
I’ve added so many eyes on my body.
Just in case, whenever he came and ***** my despicable memories.

Finally, I moved my body gently, cleaned every *****.
I planted myself behind the barrels, so faulty.
I composed myself and whispered like I was ready.
There would be no reality, maybe.

People are like rain.
They are falling,
and crashing.
They thought that was meant to be;
falling,
and crashing down to the earth.
They thought that's just how life works.
They thought life could only throw them down.

I was one of them, back then.
Until I melt down into a pool of storms.
I was falling,
and crashing,
and crawling.
Until I found myself sprawl in the middle of the storm, flowing with the others.

But I stopped.

And bless myself among happiness; rain.

A little guilt goes a long way
Even the sturdiest oak can be made to sway
Figments of people duped by atavistic views
Waking up from bouts of fervor
A most sadistic snooze
They repose like overgrown fountains of youth
Their dreams rusted, forgotten and that’s the truth


In a lonely forest, oaks fall with the loudest screams
A somberness aided by clouds and defective sun beams


My soul has finally given in to moralistic cracks
For now it’s about as clean as mud pies and tire tracks
I’m wobbling down my lifetime from crutch to crutch
Wondering when to finally whisper “****, I’ve seen too much”
So please, return me home, send my spirit way down below
To lands of rusted dreams and toss-turned pillows

A  beautiful  laburnum  tree
as  just  come  into  flower
outside  my  window.
Drooping  clusters  of
yellow  flowers.
Hanging  down  like  jewels
on  a  chain.
Truly  beautiful.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.