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You could say
That I beat your name
Into most of the day
Usually pointless thoughts
Or sometimes detailed ideas
That you make come alive
If only you were here
For longer than this trite of hope  

You could even say
How madly in love I've been
With the thought that my head
Creates for us to blend
Or maybe it's this insane trend
I've started, falling in love
With the friend
Who doesn't notice
Our mouths are too close
To speak truths
That we once wrote
 Feb 2016 Sean Winslow
aviisevil
an old man sits quietly and watch the sun rise beyond the mountains,
a lonely young girl kisses a red rose fondly and throws it in the fountain,
a small boy runs past a mother of three looking for her daughter,
a man silently lights up a cigarette and stands by the corner,
a fat man eyes the candy shop and quickly turns his head round,
someone in black stares at the sky as they lower the coffin into the ground,
one little girl eye the beautiful lady standing next to her at the shop,
someone walking past the flower shop halts as the traffic stops,
two dreaming eyes gaze at the four eyes staring into each other,
one blind kid screams into the walls where echo lingers,
a lady in wheelchair smiles as she hands herself to her man,
two little kids in the Park slowly destroy the castle made in sand,
one man in uniform looks up at the New shiny building by the street,
a tall beautiful man looks past his eyes as they begin to weep,
a dog barks as the postman delivers the last of his chore,
a frail old man sits melancholy waiting at the door,
two young spirits race each other hand in hand at the shore,
a young boy sleeps merrily as a mother sings him a lore,
a daughter watches her father as he lovingly kisses his wife,
a mother sits by his boy as he battles death with life,
a young couple strolls down the street into their new home,
an old man sits patiently by the pavement cold and alone,
an old woman sits quietly and watch the sun set beyond the mountains,
a lonely young man picks out a red rose morbidly from a fountain.
Calm is the morn without a sound,
Calm as to suit a calmer grief,
And only thro' the faded leaf
The chestnut pattering to the ground:

Calm and deep peace on this high wold,
And on these dews that drench the furze.
And all the silvery gossamers
That twinkle into green and gold:

Calm and still light on yon great plain
That sweeps with all its autumn bowers,
And crowded farms and lessening towers,
To mingle with the bounding main:

Calm and deep peace in this wide air,
These leaves that redden to the fall;
And in my heart, if calm at all,
If any calm, a calm despair:

Calm on the seas, and silver sleep,
And waves that sway themselves in rest,
And dead calm in that noble breast
Which heaves but with the heaving deep.
the
faint odor of soup cans
and well water wafted through the pumice stone
of recycled air and a faint hum. you thumb through the turbulence of your heart's bone
as it fractures. you catch birds to mock turtles.
with no alice.
the sun adds this...  true moons and canopies
soft shouldered earth and dead moths. we're taught
but more lost. the sea chops
so the horizon is a great wave
on a seahorse.

cozy stars applaud. a wisp of pure force.

you're uncontained.
you might be immortal;
but how could you live
with that ?
 Feb 2016 Sean Winslow
Madison
my best songs were about you
full of pure honesty and hopeless desperation
they were written in minor keys
on lonesome days when I needed you most
I will find
in the remnants of a lost love's thought
some semblance of warmth
some piece of a dream past
some hope that it may rise again
from the embers
of a once blazing heart
I called the lone parrot passing over my head

from the blue
i won't fly to you

it said

forgot the love i gave?

but you made me your slave
to repeat your chosen line
to voice your chosen tune
my life was not mine

so from the blue
i won't ever fly to you


she affirms the parrot escaped

but i know one dull afternoon in March
she let the bird fly away
being too weary of the chosen line.
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