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 Aug 2020 onlylovepoetry
Ayesha
Laced with blue
Embedded with rue
I put on my dress
Shining with fluke
Inside I'm a mess
Out awaits a duke
Prepare I to flatter
Try I not to shatter

Trembling, I open the door
My heavy eyes on the floor
I hear the sound of his smile
Takes then he my bony hand
We walk slow, down the aisle
I think I feel them all stand
they gawk at our spotless shine
power, beauty, a match so fine

A perfect walk in a perfect hall
till body decides to give in and fall
In sudden, I hear all of the silence
name me, label me til I'm unnamed
gore me, control me, I've seen violence
I've been through, I've been trained
face of my duke's engraved with a frown
I still, I shrink, again I've let him down

though kindly he extends a hand
though slowly I take the stand
though still perfect we are together
I who saw glass break to shards
know many pieces we can't gather
know too many unflipped cards
too many of them yet to be turned
too many secrets yet to be learned

Adorned in red,
made with regret
he put on his dress
with misery so bright
to meet his mistress
on this cold, dead night
still he wished a try
to being her some joy

scared he knocked with grace
admired then her pretty face
saw her walk, then fall slightly
and helped her back with glory
tiresome it was to walk quietly
wished he to say he was sorry
but he too knew it was in vain
they had to suffer this ugly pain

Though he loved her deeply
and knew so did she briefly
there were other things to adore
power, pearls and dresses that sway
wars, swords and bodies to gore
still he hoped, oft sat down to pray
for return of life in their dry eyes
for a melody of their silenced cries

As I shatter to velvet ground again
their eyes follow me down like rain
though jewels don't match with love
it too has long run away perhaps
Spread its wings, out gone the dove
next to me, I see my duke collapse
how lovely, we are the perfect ashes
of two impatient, imperfect clashes
Just a funny little song I wrote.
November 2019.
Thank God those
febrile nightmares of
youth are gone.
I long for the
numbing fog.
The dust of dreams
linger when I awake,
like a fly in
a glue-trap.

My mind is nebulous as
I try to recall
the nocturnal visits.
Legs tired from running;
**** sore from *******.
I've played doctor for years
trying to reverse this curse,
prescribing: women, drugs,
***** by the barrels,
searching for that ambrosia,
that nectar of the gods that
makes life less vivid and sharp,
and puts the sleep back in
my eyes.
Spring sun and breeze,
porch sitting at ease reflecting,
hip deep in tranquility, smiling
living well one breath at a time.
Possessing way more than enough.
It's the simple things that
make life exceptional, never
to be taken for granted.
These little moments in time.
Is there therapy
enough for a whole nation
to heal its schism?
 Jul 2020 onlylovepoetry
Traveler
In the moment we thrive
On the edge of being alive
Don’t be afraid
We’re all going to die
You see this is a reminder
From the wizard in the sky
From the witness behind
We’re all in this together
And this world
Isn’t getting any better
......XYZ......
Traveler Tim
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