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The tiniest gift
wrapped in wrinkled skin
eyes closed, softly breathing.

Fragile fingers grasp mine tightly, forming bonds and sealing pacts.

My heart leaps at the sight of your button nose.Your blossom cheeks, velvet soft, draw kisses from my lips with ease.

I gaze at your brow and wonder at your dreams.
There is no purer love than this.
My first Grandchild Tyler Zion was born on October 29th. He's a keeper!
:-)
Here I belong
amongst the rugged greys and guillemots
my heart in league with the furious sea
as it lashes the desolate shore.

Cries, mournful in their lament
soar through smothered skies
bearing tales of wrecks and lost lobster pots
empty now of precious cargo
ghostly on the ocean floor.

Salt air swirls and dips above the churning foam,
bringing stinging cold to ruddy cheeks and numbed hands.
A distant bell chimes as tides caress barnacled bows
lost at once within the swirling mists
that lay their sheen upon the dusk.
Inspired by a beach walk, for me beaches are always at their best in bad weather.
 Nov 2014 pat
r
sweet liberty
 Nov 2014 pat
r
we are losing in a gulag
of our choosing

the un-predict-
ability of liberty

an extraordinarily poor
rendition of a system

where oaken-ed cloaked
murderous crows caw foul

jumping at every
shadow of a shadow of

a shadow nears to turn to turn
to turn the clock back years

election day is tuesday
- rue the day sweet liberty.

r ~ 11/1/14

*much at stake
\¥/\
  |      **VOTE!**
/ \
 Nov 2014 pat
Leo
lilacs
 Nov 2014 pat
Leo
soft light lips
just hanging from a stem
easy smooth rips
from their fresh new hem
 Nov 2014 pat
precarious words
you told me to prep for a new season, that what was dying is now dead
said we must steel ourselves with warmth against the first frost, it was the worst no
it was a testament or
just a test
& here, where we carve our winters from the gentle curve of the ampersand
from punctuation that's meant to bring us closer but only moves us further apart
like the swell of a gentle tide &
even the beach must face bitter winds filled with eburnean matter meant to cling to our skin
we will reenact this act, this ampersand
you are the skin
i am the surf no
i am the sand
no
i am the snow
&
nothing is warm
 Nov 2014 pat
Alain Gonzalez
VII
 Nov 2014 pat
Alain Gonzalez
VII
River's clipped wings rest
on the riverside.
Winter plucks its wavy strings:
Time's not going anywhere.
Playing poetry on Twitter :)
 Nov 2014 pat
TC
Jesus, Ect.
 Nov 2014 pat
TC
capsized beating purple algorithm
for a heart,
cross-nit aspirations
still taste dirt on my teeth,
the mission creep of eager eyed poets,
carry a briefcase with my levi's --
close cut cigarette encounters,
all brick shantytown of a friendship
them lovelies run on endless,
it's starting to get cold outside.

restless sprites circle our *****
exhaling greek mythopoeics
every sure footed step.
alcoholism echoes in my skin
a depth charge i cannot cut out,
we all have broken thoughts here,
all have blind spots in our stomachs,
they read like a preacher's insecurities:
burly things we warm ourselves with,
the winters sting bitter.

something is wrong with me,
sinkhole of ambition and honey kisses,
all the great thinkers **** themselves,
it's the staunch lack of spotlight,
way the earth drips lackadaisical-like
we just call it a perfect orbit.
shake my hand and feel a goldilocks pulse
anemic shards of a cornered animal,
we cut right
to the bone
here, or so we tell ourselves.

and love is always the answer?
that sure footed toothy angel
so beautiful, it couldn't just be our
churlish blood,
frothing and calming,
frothing and calming,
electrons rise and fall to create light,
they still circle an untapped atrocity
perfectly,
like this, like it must be
god
or something close. something
stopping them from running, free
from bonds ionic or otherwise,
bare feet
beating the pavement until there are
no more stones to throw.

firstborns of the universe,
each star is a setting sun,
blinks staggered,
still grew us up quicker than most,
there is no aphrodisiac like heliocentrism.

them bones cut good
doped up on oxytocin,
those empty thoughts still rattling,
dig sharp -- then nice and numb.

and we cutthroat and glossy,
sharper than ever.

walk outside
smoke a cigarette
know how much you love her,
look at the stars --

it's ******* beautiful isn't it
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