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 Dec 2016 Rickie Louis
Eloi
You sit in a room that's dark,
It's silent, pitch black.
in hope of hiding from the chaotic tragedy of the world around you.

A creak in the floorboards due to the natural rotting of a beam that has stood for too long, becomes a demonic presence creeping towards you.
Your mind becomes the origin of paranoia itself.

What was once your home has become a prison,
Your own mind keeps you inside the walls of the voices that you hear and illusions that you see.

******* will do that to you,
But if they try hard enough, so can people.

People can drive you to the point where you see things where there's nothing but empty space,
And to a place where not even the moments before you fall asleep are silent.

A sewn up mouth to stop you from telling their secrets, you'll never unwind the truth that you live to anyone who could help.

Isolation will destroy you, eventually.
This explains exactly how I feel at the moment, the world is so corrupt
 Dec 2016 Rickie Louis
ani
there is sincerity in the distance between us. i think i owe you an apology. you keep me at arms length only because i asked you to, yet all i want is to bathe in your presence like i owe you something. to follow the lines of your lips with words unspoken. "death to a saint," you will tell me, "this is not you." i will kiss away your remaining sanctity, like light kisses away dark depths of forgotten i miss you's and the sound of your pleas — they sound a lot like "tell me something good to get me by."
 Dec 2016 Rickie Louis
Lyra
I could feel your absence as much as your presence.
2. You were the sun and now you are gone.
3. All is without life.
He followed the buck past
the wormwood barn

down the game trail
into and out of

three hundred yards
of multiflora rose

(so thick his jeans
raveled like terrycloth)

to shoot and leave for
dead, walked away.
Inside the marrow
of Winter's bone
breathes a sparrow
goodbye is not goodbye
a broken record
the **** of memory
moments paused
eventually play on
all is not lost
but found in the echo
the neverending
sound mind

It appears
I am the Autumn leaf
bereft of color
left at the foot
of your tree
forgotten by all
parts of you
except memory
I've lost all but me
 Dec 2016 Rickie Louis
Traveler
Puppets we are, being strung along
By the unseen forces of nature
Beyond our mortal control
With a desire to remain forever young
Yet against our will, we continue to grow old

The strings get cut yet the nerves still twitch
Perhaps to return somewhere our souls itch
Lost in this bottomless pit of dream
And blinded by all these things

If the puppet master were I
I wouldn’t allow anybody to die
Even if you told a thousand lies

And at least you'd know
The true face of your maker
And if somebody broke I’d be the breaker
Yet I wouldn’t be offended by the foresaker

But I’m only a puppet to blind to tell
Isn’t that the real hell?
Traveler Tim
12-20-03
A cool December morning!
Today I rose much earlier than usual
I watch the night stealing away
Like an accused convict under cover

Sunlight peeks through the leaves.
In the haze of overhanging mist,
Only the blurred silhouette of trees in sight
The crows have begun their raucous call

The leaves of grass are misted with dew
A cool zephyr blows from the south
Clouds float like shredded cotton
Even Sirius, the brightest star has paled

Life is slowly beginning to unfold
And men like shadows have begun to move
The sun has now climbed to the Eastern hills
In scintillating glory like a mighty king

Shattering the mist with his lance like beams
He exults like a victorious warrior
His crystal rays rouse the sleeping birds
And they begin their chorus in wondrous rhyme

I enjoy the sweetness of this lovely morn
In serene silence, I stand and watch
The light that slowly fills the Earth,
Dispelling all trace of overhanging darkness!
Unlike the Winter of the West, here in most parts of India it is very mild and sweetly pleasant with clear blue skies, bright sun and cool mornings and evenings. This is the best time of the year, here in the place where I live. The morning air carries the scent of opening flowers, so refreshing and giving an exotic feel !
 Dec 2016 Rickie Louis
ani
taste
 Dec 2016 Rickie Louis
ani
i am your liberator so pay attention. for freeing you has never felt so good. i kiss the line of lies away from the corners of your mouth and smudge sweet nothings into your lips with mine and now i do not know if i am more a savior or if i slept the title away into your arms because now all i know is the way your drowsy sighs feel like i am coming home.
i left you in my bed this morning and when i return you will be gone and though you will be back i still feel like my heart has been chewed up and spit back out right into your hands
You'll see one day,
when you're only nineteen
and life is a liquid
in which you swim
and drink deeply of,
that life will get you drunk
and you'll sleep so soundly
and dream your golden dreams
until one day you wake up
and you'll be thirty-three.

Hungover from living
a little too quickly,
you'll think to yourself:
*what happened to me?
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