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Big foot imprints
whorl of
weathered sole
on sand
rock
and heath.

how well will
we let them
disappear
when reddened sky
falls silent
Mij was a storm of laughter and defiance,
A stubborn spirit, ever demanding his way,
Yet when the drinks flowed, oh how he shined,
A madcap maestro in the delirium of night.

Johnny Thunders on the speakers,
Hanoi rocks and Lords of the New Church
Echoing through our wild, endless journeys,
Tunes that stitched our misadventures into memory.

He’d promise me refuge in sunlit Greece,
An open door to his scattered sanctuary,
A place I longed to visit,
But lost my courage amidst the clamor of his drinking.

Now, two years on, silence aches where he once roared,
And in the quiet, I feel the bittersweet pull
Of laughter mixed with grief,
Missing the man who was as difficult as he was dearly loved.

In every clink of glass and every chord played,
I hear Mij’s defiant laugh a reminder
That even in chaos and excess,
There was a spark of beauty, a story worth every flawed moment.
Two years since your passing, and I'm only just starting to understand what you were to me.
the light, the faint curtain that draws across day,
far from night's shadows, creature of fire,

revolves, drops white nets into the sea-earth,
where ice and the aching frost cry out

and the soil hardens with its harsh, freezing edge.

we are deaf and blind, numb of limb
like the thin trees and the specter-sky,

blue and forlorn, dreaming our winter dreams...

and through the cold walls i can hardly draw
a smile, sad as a silver leaf the autumn forgot.

it is you who lifts me from the ground, somehow,
like an april shoot seeking the sun, somehow,

my bones as frail as a bird and yet
when the air stirs my blood and i stare into

the amber notes of the wind, the unforgiving land
buckles and breaks and i return to the

kernel of your heart and even the icy
lakes and the weighty forest you loved

under your skin that the light waits to
warm, forget their cold death, breathe

like summer returning to a distant shore.
Trombone bones
don't make a poem
Funny that you ask

I wonder why or what
made you cry
Now I have to ask

"The bones are
then laid bare
upon the Sands of Time
and sun bleached pure"

"We hang by threads
until we cut
the rope of life that binds"

Then the funeral proceeds
down the street
Clairenets , trumpets
and trombones

Life is a chance
a game of dice

Won't you roll the bones
with me
War
30,000 troops sent to the border
A massing for attack ?

Opening up places to concentrate people
Homeless , opposition , and those who exercise rights

When will the exterminators come
declaring that the righteous are fake ?

WHEN 98% of the people contain only 2.6% of wealth they've devised a plan to take out the rest

Birds of a feather flock together with Un , Putin and Jinping .

There are only victors and victims on the ****** skin
when it comes in the name of war
Once war starts all constitutional  rights can be suspended by executive war powers act . People can be rounded up and imprisoned without any hope of legal rights . All press entities can be suspended . Elections can be canceled . Congress and Courts can be suspended indefinitely . The nation becomes a one man state .
It was another strange dream
Suddenly I found myself looking out an upstairs window at people arriving below
Then I thought "Wait a minute, where am I ? What house am I in ?
I don't have an upstairs, I live in a bungalow (only a ground floor)"

When I went downstairs there was this big Christmas tree up
I thought to myself "But I...I didn't put up my Christmas tree yet

And there were lots of people there and some familiar faces
And they all seemed to be smiling at me, as if accepting me there
As if there was nothing unusual, as if I belonged there.

It was like a party was going on
And then I seen my brother sitting amongst them all
One of his hands was bandaged
I didn't think it polite to ask him about it
Beside him was another younger relative
I was amazed astounded because this relative he had died a few years earlier, in an accident
Yet here... here he was right here before me

I thought to myself "This must be some kind of... some kind of Parallel
   Universe I'm in where things turned out differently"
It made me wonder was my own world  then just an illusion
It seemed so far away now... so distant

Suddenly I started to get a little afraid, I thought "But I don't know this world...this place
I don't... I don't belong here
How do I get out of here
How do I get back... back to my own world....  

Soon after this I awoke...again back in my own bed...back in my own world.
Trying to capture the strangeness and anxiety of this dream experience.
My earthly desires dwindling day by day
I only fancy food, rest, light exercise
And some simple amusement such as
Writing poetry and listening to music
That are necessary for staying aware.

How time flies I have yet to comprehend
Unimaginable how years
Are packed into days
And diligence of days
Forgotten in a flash.

Luckily I still have all my senses intact
And can't complain about health issues
Nevertheless, I won't attempt to take
Flight of stairs for more than two floors
If I don't have to for I get winded
Due to a lifetime of smoking
As for walking, I can do a mile each day
Which enhances my thought process
And I am grateful for that
I do not wish to reach a stage
When others need to take care of me
If there are any "others" of course
And willing to do so.

I have lived my life one day at a time
More precisely, moment to moment
My philosophy of life dwells in the Now
Never has gone beyond it and never will
Such is the order of spiritual reasoning
Keeping one eye on life, one eye on death.

I have a penetrative mind  
Soaring beyond the clouds
Telepathizing with birds
Acknowledging their flair
They keep me company
These paradigms of elegance
I have learned a lot from them
Through unspoken words
I am just a secretary taking down
Their inspiring instructions
Which may lead to a type of poetry
Hopefully enjoyed by others
I hope I can do this for as long
And as far as possible
Because nowadays at my age
Anything can go wrong at any time
This is the struggle one has to deal with
When getting old.
I am forever lost
Lost in nuances of Nature
Lost in mysteries of Life
What does it mean to be conscious
When molecules mold
Fabrics of reality in the Universe
Manufacturing cloaked consciousness
The order of things, is a magic show
And the magician, network of duality
How do I find my portrait
In galactic images of matter
How do I decipher my existence
In obscured manners of anti-matter
I am lost forever
In the absence of answers
Climbing a ******* mountain
My emotions inhale rapid fire
And extinguished wrath they exhale
When will I hurl my perception
To a wrecking ball called disinformation
In a world fraught with temptation.
In the Silence
There is Clarity
To Feel and See
The  Beauty!

© Debra Lea Ryan & ?
04.02.2025
☀♥ƸӜƷ✿♬
♥ Amore Per Sempre Anima Amica ♬
Well wishes, to all who
   survived, another trip
     around the Sun.
Hope it was filled
    with, health, wealth  
        happiness, and fun!
And it continues, for You,
      and "Yours" in the
          "New One
              Just "Begun".
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