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Cup of coffee, a cigarette,
The desire to describe a day;
Over these words, I wince and fret.

A clock chimes it's infinite way
Eroding hours till all lights gray.

Day of leisure, a life well set,
A wish the clock would slow or stay;
This loss of light, I'll soon regret.

The moments quickly slip away
Into the twilights dying splay.

Time spent fishing, from age be let,
And hope that many swim this bay;
Hours levied, against chance I'll bet.

The suns grand retreat seems to say
My stellar prize has gone astray.

Cup of coffee, a cigarette,
The sadness of a wasted day;
Over words, still I wince and fret.

As clocks chime their infinite way
Eroding hours till all lights gray.
I wrote this last summer while in the high Uinta mountains.
I took the trip to observe the Perseids meteor shower.
 Feb 2013 Sean Briere
Ryan Cenzon
Floating like Dandelion,

like lucid dreams, dragged by the wind.

Floating so ecstatically,

painful memories we rescind.


The land once deserted,

now heavily inhabited and teeming.

The stained fabrics of our history,

slowly we are cleaning.


Afternoons so peaceful,

spent in the windy meadows of our mask.

Finally, in the sky, I see the light,

in it, forever shall I bask.
 Feb 2013 Sean Briere
Ryan Cenzon
In the dark, I weep,

as in the air, fumes, I smell.

Alive I may appear to be,

but my soul now burns in Hell.


Memories of happiness in my hands,

memories of watching it swim away,

now, left am I, to wonder,

why I still live to see the day.


The sky has promised joy,

December winds dragged me along,

the leaves had whispered, that you were for me,

and now, I bleed, for they were wrong.
 Feb 2013 Sean Briere
Ryan Cenzon
We walk atop the clouds,

above the oceans, that have swallowed,

the crowns that we had once worn,

wave, after wave, dragging the sands into her tables.


Look upon the sky of black,

where the thousand stars reside,

while in the dark, they harmoniously spin,

the seven brothers of the Alpha and Omega.


Brothers, once united strong,

have grown apart with seas in between,

now look at one another with discrimination and disgust,

eyes now containing anger, and fists clenched with iron.


The comets, they fill my pupils,

my heart now filled with stone,

as we walk the path of good and evil,

and watch Castor and Pollux cut each other's throats.
The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.
The rain calls softly from beyond the window
Fingers tapping on glass, persistent
Undaunted at the prospect of rejection

Saxophones serenade and trumpets sound
A color wheel exploding in my mind's eye
The rain was jazz for a moment

White lights create an art in their geometry
With shapes that don't exist
Except in the mind of the beholder

Smoke billows from between my lips
And this world of mine coagulates
It feels so right it almost stings.
 Feb 2013 Sean Briere
Orange Zest
I’m interested in the way your mind is locked. I see no chain. There are no keys. Your simple steadfast determination to be deaf and blind is holding the door shut in its hands. It is never off-guard. Your mind-beast is strange. It doesn't have eyelids. Nor lips or a tongue. It doesn’t breathe or have heartbeat. [It is made of wood. Deep roots like veins bind it where it stands. It’s grown into the door. It is the door. The beast is the door and it refuses to open. The beast is the door and it’s killing your mind; one dead thought one dead dream at a time.]
Stars of amity
gleam in your eyes.
Ships of solace
sail your lips.

I find in your hair
compatible finches,

and in your arms
a universe
of calm.
Immaculate confection
In the market stands.
A sign touts it's perfection,
It wont melt in your hands.
A sacrament for your protection
Back by popular demand.
No less than a Chocolate Jesus
My tender little lambs.
Inspired by Chocolate Jesus by Tom Waits
There was a young lady called B
Who had an urgent desire to P
There was no toilet around
So she used the ground
What a sight that was to C
© Ronald Maxwell Segel 2008
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