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 Jul 2023 Path Humble
ogdiddynash
man cave versus she-sheds.

A man I know, finished his basement,
a skilled builder, he built it himself and
installed the masculine items prerequisite,
recliner and pool table, refridgerated mugs etcetera.

When asked how
he was enjoying
his privy isle
he replied, it’s ok,
but haven’t been down
there much lately,
seeing as the pool table
is used primarily
for folding laundry,
and the recliner
reserved for her
unmentionables.

he has
shed his man-cave secondarily to
she that rules,
Cardi-be-Cleopatra,
she rules, the empire,
now it’s her she-shed,
he openly cried
real manly tears
to me, fellow member
of hu-man-unkind.

one more,
just another
finished man,
a home & cave-less
bro…
And So the Day Begins (Bring Them Home)

~ With love for T.R. & S.R., my friends ~

<>

Their spirits, sensed, well kept,
in a sudden breeze, a sudden sneeze,
at the precise exacting, millisecond,
when skin, mind intersect, coinciding,
Mine, Theirs, and wet eyes and
smile traces arrive unbidden but both
together, always simultaneous and I know,
full hearted, full throated gasp grasping,
my soul and hands, touching, clasping,
in the kitchen odors, morning coffee,
early daylight across my face sweeping,
on the tongue, their taste on mine,
and I am present in this moment
as they are too, with me forever if
but just for a heartbeat, maybe two,
stilled yet, my heart trembles as it fuses
with Them and Everyone of Us is renewed,
and so the day begins,
Oh Our Children!
remembering, a point on our journey,
our always unbroken continuum.



<>

7:17AM
July 22
Two Thousand and Twenty Three
but one more day until…
mine eyes wet, can’t be dried,
and all around no one notices,
but there is contentment even
in that,
as it is my private momentary placement,
in Heaven on Earth,
all together,
merging…
early daylight across my face sweeping,
gingerly ginger-yellow heated by the low-
risen sun, it confirms what my beating heart
yet signals, granted us, a new twenty and four,

but no more,

for certainty is not a human condition, so we cover
our eyes, not from the sun-rays, but in deference and
thankfulness and  gratitude, that we have one more chance
to the world distribute, blessed human loving kindness, unique,
the greatest gift most excellent we human possess to give away freely!

Jewely 23, Twenty Twenty Three
8:30am
<>

you pout and defer, dancing backwards,
claiming, blue is now blackened
from underuse, incapable and incapacitating revival

saying  eyes cannot see, distinctly, neither near or far,
the tremble of love, forgot & distantly absent,
but I know, a heart’s sensory muscles never die,
though weaken they might, underused, un-exercised

denying  that inspiration  
no longer resides with in thy sensitivities,
has fled, undercover of smoking forest fires
all the diurnal hazards that invade, occupying

my internal spaces once filled by poems
you conceived, birthed, in a pleasured haze,
came so fast, you bare recall agony accompanied,
but not the ecstasy of the end resultant!


you know it’s you of whom I write, but,

a note not shaming names, but messages
countless private messages have I sent
begging, beseeching, give me your gifts


once more, you owe me not, though I
oft irritate with my deafening pleas,
yet only denials continue, my pleas ding
but dent not, the tired fear of your exposition

so speak to you plain,
feed my soul selfish
like in years gone past,
there are holes in mine

that require your elixir,
creamy softness that moistens
my face with tears of your words
originating, astound, enfold

not later, not soon, not excusals,
write for me NOW, WRITE FOR YOURSELF,
but leave me not forsaken and thirst un-slackened,


Answer! To whom do you owe your poems?
Sunday, June 11 11:29 AM
2023
in the sunroom
Said the sea to the shore “you don’t love me anymore
All the good times seem like long forgotten chores
While sunshine ***** my waters making rain
I’ll visit other shores where I have lain
Make trees and grass and flowers grow again
Make harmony with clouds the sky I lend
Yet your sandy walk I will forever tend
Though you forget it’s time itself I bend”

Said the shore to the sea “you truly take me wrong
We will touch throughout eternity in song
Though moonlight is the mate for which I long
We’ll touch your tides like members of your tong
Make swirling currents beautiful and strong
For time is but the mask where we belong”

Said the sea to the shore “take comfort in my lust
For I turn even iron and steel to rust
Like the oceans of night’s sky I will remain
To touch your soul with yet a new refrain
That we may yet be lovers once again”
Inspired by a youtube clip "the sea and the shore" featuring John Fullbright

https://youtu.be/5mdl6bcwG18
 Jul 2020 Path Humble
Joanne Fuda
When I asked my mama how she stayed young
She said,

"By always having someone to be desperately in love with that you can't have. By always having a Muse"

And we sat
under rain
watching with
the same golden eyes
the wonder of the dark driveway
with the old filing cabinet
that we still haven't moved.
Written by my talented daughter - I love you sweetheart **
 Sep 2018 Path Humble
PamCom
One day, you’ll fall deeply and irrevocably in love
with the nape of the neck and the lobe of the ear
you’ll want to nibble just above the edge of the jaw
and run your fingers through the tousled spirally hair,
but the slight quiver of curved lips will halt you in thoughts
as the darting pupils furtively flutter behind closed eyelids
searching for a break of dawn in the shadows of a room
where dust hangs heavily then settles in unsuspecting lungs
making the rise and fall of the chest raspy and laborious,
making nostrils flare up to make room for something less heavy
something more familiar, more light and less lugubrious,
something like a touch on the curve of the neck just below
the edge of the jaw and a whisper of something gentle
that nibbles on the ear as erring fingers run through spirally hair,
sending waves of shivers that make curved lips quiver and
darting pupils flutter enough to one day break open closed eyelids
where you’ll fall deeply and irrevocably in love.
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