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 Oct 17 Em
I'm not a suitor
I am gray skies and bright suns
From flying days past

That is all, a Haiku
SJ - lol
 Oct 11 Em
 Oct 11 Em

no words could quell
the throbbing turmoil
that lay siege upon the chest.

no action could silence
the persuasive whispers
that show only darkened paths.

but there is this...
a seemingly empty hand -
with nothing to gift,
except the companionship
of another imperfect heart.

and the open hand will remain,
seemingly empty...

until you fill it with yours.

 Oct 11 Em
Perhaps you are not as you seem
Or perhaps the problem
As it always has been
Resides with me

For I am my not that
As I'm not angry when awake
But that too often now I have gone to dreams
And dreams don't die for me

Instead, I breathe
And in sleeping
Dreams die fast, sadly
 Sep 29 Em
Robert C Ellis
Lungs are His cathedrals, on this night A
Boeing 737-7 cuts a spotlight
between twilight and dream
Gods breath carving alveoli with a 10:35 flight across rib bone
and destiny
It is the curse of existence, trajectory
Neither sleep nor sunrise will stabilize me.
 Sep 15 Em
 Sep 15 Em

Nights don’t change…

Perhaps just the stories
they weave in infinites
from the fires of stars
and embers of hearts…

Or perhaps it’s the way
they were captured
and deciphered;
Reworded and retuned
to the song and dalliance
of the hand-wielded ink.
 Sep 5 Em
A Question
 Sep 5 Em
What if my tongue
Parched from its boredom
Runs out of ink
Or forgets itself
And the ways of penning graphite scenes
Into the reality of lines to be

What if my of
Has come forth only to be
Nothing more than a habitus
Or self reflective mirror
That worships either everything of self
Or of thee

What if our cause
Was already free
And found beside a quiet setting
Where the Idaho deer
Meet, paw, and breed their joys
Dispite of inequities

What if this
All the snow in heaven fell
And all the heat of hell rose up
And all the steam between were trees
And you were me
And we were these

What if is all I ask of me
The set about creations . 8
 Jul 14 Em
 Jul 14 Em
We hadn’t realised…

That we spoke of love
that was enshrouded
by child-like naïveté.

We had then,
fire in our hearts,
sparks in our eyes
and clouds in our heads


marbles in our mouths.
 Jul 13 Em
 Jul 13 Em

still and quiet nights
words come in stifling cascades
borne of sky and stars

 Jul 13 Em
 Jul 13 Em
          These thoughts
are a haphazard
of moments,
           and scents -

  caught in a
      persistent loop…

         Such it is,
   that they herald
       no known beginning,
and yield
     no foreseeable end.

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