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 Apr 2014 Sarah Michelle
r
Home Depot does not sell azure paint.
No. They do have Morning Sky,
Tropical Lagoon, Morning Breeze,
Ocean Cruise, Cozumel, Empress Teal,
Almost Aqua, and Navy.  But no azure.  
No cyan, either. No plain ol' blue.
I will take my verdant money elsewhere.
Home Depot should be more poet friendly.

r ~ 4/29/14
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 Apr 2014 Sarah Michelle
r
I could write a poem about you.
It's true.

But a poem would only make you love me
more than you know how to.

I could write a poem about your eyes.
They're blue.

I could tell the world you make my day all day long.
Nights, too.

I could tell the world all about you.
The world would share my view.

I could say that your days live inside
my heart. They do.

I could write a poem about you.
It would be true. Would you?

r ~ 4/28/14
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 Apr 2014 Sarah Michelle
r
Moon
 Apr 2014 Sarah Michelle
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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   |    O
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 Apr 2014 Sarah Michelle
r
Guinevere
 Apr 2014 Sarah Michelle
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?
  / \
don't call me that
and
don't call me
astronaut or

good

provider
businessman
trader
father
lover

all ******* up charges

mark me plainly
Cain stainedly

mark me
just
as plain man

for plain ordinary man,
failure is
an ok option

too bad
some hu-mens
must be
princes and princesses,
even poets too,
and all the rest

*for them,
failure
is no option
Someone called me,
Prince
someone called me
Poet.

At 3:45am
The mirror on the wall
laughed,
calls me cursed
and leaves me
with my hand,
that worn stump,
holding my head
failing to figure out
an answer.
psychotic, she says

psychedelic, he says

tho black n' white,
tumultuous are the variances of shading,
the hints of unknown fragrances
of days yet to come when,
spring earth and spring buds
long past the point of expectation,
inject colorful unexpectedness

eyes so clear so bright,
how can she not see beyond the pale
emotionless expression of gaunt,
that all turbulence is not bad

see that streak of black hair,
refusing to be hidden, a provocation,
curling, asking to be stroked,
pitter patter it teases the lips,
but only after it grazes the eyelash
so seductively it screams
I am beautiful!

does she fail to see?
who will not permit her
to see what I have seen?

the lyric comes to mind instantly:

Well let me tell you 'bout the way she looked
The way she'd act and the colour of her hair
Her voice was soft and cool
Her eyes were clear and bright
But she's not there



her eyes are clear and bright,
her pen delicate and light,
she unbeknownst surrounded,
by admirers that gladly lay,
not their cape, but their whole body
across these leftover puddles of winter


will she? will she cross over?
with those eyes so clear, so bright,
there is only one acceptable answer!


*come spring, come summer,
her true nature will nurture
For her, one of my oldest and nearest
HP friends.
lachrymose: suggestive of or tending to cause tears; mournful....given to shedding tears readily; tearful.**

make no dithering,
wily excusing or explaining,
among this band,
I count myself
a brother and a man

eons ago shed the
reptilian skin masculine,
my six-shooter now a manly
cheap Bic ballpoint blue-eyed pen,
used to fell forests of egos,
mine, first foremost and ever last

every write that sore tries my heart,
lives hard by a stream replenished,
by freshly born, yet stale, recirculated
salt-mine tears, salt, mine, tears,
that include those storing and storied,
some preceding and some succeeding,
and some spilling
even as
this story told,
here and now,
is in the hearth,
forming and fulfilling

if man enough that you can cry openly,
then man enough to write good poetry,
this then, this be the simple and finest
line I ever wrote,
line I ever cried

5:20pm April 20th,
The Year of the Tear
~~~

this is my opening night.
this is my final performance.

this is the very first poem
I have ever written.
this may be the last poem
I ever write.

I cannot be sure.

so utter these words before you write.
pray this commencement invocation,
each time, every time,
for who can know when it will be
the last curtain call,
for your first may also be your
finale.

you are the architect of an edifice,
that will be tested by time.
before you lay the cornerstone,
before you press the save button...

ask - is the best I can do?

this creation, forever etched upon your face,
will be reflected in the eyes of strangers,
are you satisfied with your appearance?

must answer this question.

is this the best I can do?

must answer this question.

whatever the answer,
you will know what needs doing, before,
before you do it.

This is my first and last poem.
The concept for this poem was spoken by Jacques d'Amboise, ballet dancer, choreographer and teacher at a talk in honor of the 50th year of the New York City Ballet Company's residence at the Koch Auditorium or the New York State Theater as it was first known, in the Lincoln Center complex, this evening.
they rip me,
and I love it

they cut me open
in batches and bunches,
tumbling into me
staccato rapid machine gun fire

this crew, my friends,
they don't read my stuff,
and say very nice, natty,
and move-along-little-doggie

nah, they pick me up
kick three, four, five
poems back at a time -
eat me, drink me, in batches and bunches,
then pick me apart,
then kick me out,
spit the pits on the floor

the way it's supposed to be done

poems - rip n' write them
in batches and bunches,
******* torn from my breast,
fight me every step of the day,
"Is that all ya got"
"yes'" I answer,
"*******,
that is indeed, all I got -
not!"


take a rag and wipe off the amniotic fluid,
throw 'em up against the wall,
and let them stick and maybe
they'll stain your DNA,
and your fancy wallpaper,
well and proper

That is how I want to be read,
my body, my head
all at once, not a droplet
here and there,
but a
rip tide
where we drown in each other,
side by side

That is how I will read you

will rip you and replace
in that empty cavity
that was created
when I ripped myself open
with what I rip from you.

I won't repost you.
but,
consider yourself posted.
Second poem tonight.  Connected and unconnected.  I write numerous poems a day. My blessing, my curse. I post them rapid fire. Rest, then,  I read the poets I like or new ones, stumbled on...I search them out and read every last poem (sometimes twenty in a row, they know), that they have written (that I have yet to read, or even reread). Thus,I read each poem like a chapters in a book, and know them not as poems, but as persons, chapters in their book.  Nothing please me more when someone cares enough to look through my old poems, a few at a time, for they help me rediscover myself.  Thank you....
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