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 Apr 2014 Sam Clemens
phantom
i remember when you would beg me to read to you
in the early hours of the morning
when conversation had kept us awake
i could tell you were smiling by the sound of your exhales
although my eyes never moved from the words on the page before me.
we would make love
until you were too tired to finish a whispered 'goodnight'
i would follow you into dreams
my last and first thoughts always of happiness

this was a long time ago
before i left you, before you left me

that's the thing with love;
it changes
it begins like a fire
embers and smoke
until it's Winter
you're alone
and the smell of ash is making you remember
everything you wish you could forget
can't sleep
it was just past three am
and the engine was running rough
and there was miles and years to go
streetlights goin by so fast they seem to flicker
like an old time picture show
the radio playing loud
some oldies station with an echo
like time was a tunnel of stars and streetlights
that endless perfect night with your girl next to you
shes wearing shorts and a wifebeater
flip-flops and all thouse bracelets
she tinkled when we would bounce in the back seat
she just laughs and says **** tootin'
my soul is three inches from flying pavement
and iv never felt so alive
the whole world comes down to that
floating flying dreamin running laughin freedom
on the wings of the engines secret fires
the road itself takes on a other worldly glow
in thouse hypnotic headlights
there in the tunnel of stars and headlights
a buick and a girl
iv never been so alive
 Apr 2014 Sam Clemens
SG Holter
Staying awake tonight, I will render myself suffering
Poet with a house full of only myself
And my thoughts.

There's food and drink, but all I care for is keeping the
Fire going as I sit. And look. At nothing. Everything.
With my thoughts

Silent, for once. As if all shields up and all angels sword
Drawn circling me, like a wall of Soulhome.
Soulrest. My thoughts

Go out to the part of myself that will never find
His way. The Last Living Astronaut, the last shard of Earth,
The last thing the dying solar system thought before

The Nova turned Super and all eyes blind.
I am alone; an unfolded antenna to capture every frequency's
Every whisper that was ever thought into these ancient walls,

And I project the process onto my device, in blind belief that
I can play the Tetris of Words around the moment I am in;
Where I am God. Quiet. Thinking. *Telling.
 Apr 2014 Sam Clemens
Jack
Sleep brings
You to me…
Everything a dream should be
Pssst...it's an acrostic
 Apr 2014 Sam Clemens
r
Moon
 Apr 2014 Sam Clemens
r
I call her Moon.
              Why, you ask?
Because she is light
     when my nights are heavy.

r ~ 4/24/14
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 Apr 2014 Sam Clemens
r
Guinevere
 Apr 2014 Sam Clemens
r
I long to meet a Guinevere
So many poems I'd pen
Like Guinevere by the Azure Mere
Or simply, My Sweet Gwen

I taste the sound of Guinevere
Tis salt upon my lips
Perhaps she'd be my Gwenhwyfar
Sweet wine of Arthur's sips

Smooth and fair my Guinevere
Of her so many songs be sung
I'd love you o'er and o'er, my dear
Tomorrow I'd have ye hung.

r ~ 4/22/14
\•/\  Oh, come on. Where's your          
   |       sense of history?
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