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been awhile
but no matter,
boots look best
when resting
on legs extended
on a summer's afternoon
looking down on
water boats, dogs by the side,
your sleepy hollow in
my appreciative heart

for I know there is soul
in brevity,
and that ain't exactly
my finest quality

but you sir,
archival historian
of moments of man's choices,
and with noisy metal detector,
reflect on the belts and buckles uncovered
from long ago wars by which you
capture my devoted attention

they say the north won the war,
by amassing more and more
and wearing down their brothers
but I know different

r
you listening,
to you I accede,
to your fewer words,
join in happy secession,
and see us all through
with your briefs on the
human condition
1378

His Heart was darker than the starless night
For that there is a morn
But in this black Receptacle
Can be no Bode of Dawn
 Apr 2016 Saint Mel Batac
Tea
I lost myself today
Have you maybe seen me?
I got lost in the crowd of
who they want me to be

I lay awake in bed
Perhaps I'll start to feel
Dreams are all I have
to know that I'm still real

A spear blows through my chest
Again I start to fall
I scream for help once more
But no one hears my call

Where do I go now
that I'm behind this wall?
Everyone I trust
leaves me lost after all

The walls are closing in
My chains cut deeper still
The echoes start to scream
They go in for the ****

The voices seem to say
"The truth will set you free"
The only one to save myself
has always been me

If I could go back now
and carry what I've learned
I'd find myself again
to try and stop the hurt.
"What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
goes away in the end"

my sort of tribute to the wonderfully heart wrenching "Hurt"
I wonder how the mind goes to different places so easily,
while the body stays in one place.
It travels through thousands of thoughts,
going a mile a minute.
Takes you to your dreams, to your wishes
and wills them to be true.
Most seem impossible, unreachable
people will say go for them.
Reach for the Stars

But sometimes the Stars are just not possible to reach,
instead we land on meteors flying through space
taking us farther from our goal then we hoped.

The mind is a curious place, filled with millions of things.
Filled with ambitions, and fantasies that could only come true in books.
Filled with works of art that can't be expressed physically,
can't' be made with paper and stone.

We may express our thoughts with poems,
music
art
but nothing can ever be the same as the original
that only we can think of

In our curious wonderful mind

— The End —