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Be happy in yourself
the rest will follow.

(SW)
If all is lost,
Can it be found.

Shattered dreams may be rerepairable,
But never fixed.

Living among the great gods,
Never  gurantees immortality.

I am but the only one,
Gifted with a beautiful curse.

Chained to the bottom of the sea,
But I am alive.

Tearing the flesh apart from the inside,
Never realizing that breathing numbs the pain.

We are forever destined to be,
But never on time.

A deep hole,
Is filled with blood.

As I sleep on this rock,
Guilt is in my vains.

A never ending nightmare,
It haunts when I am awake.

These scratches,
Burn like propane.

The hole is deeper,
Time has stopped.

Jokes **** us,
And now my flesh is pitch black.

I am hidden,
Inside of you.

Will we be able to return together,
From the abyss we started from.

I am covered in shame,
And soaked in my lust.

Forever dieing in your arms,
Poked with small holes.

I am not freedom,
And neither are they.

Holding onto you was the greatest feeling in the world to me,
I was lost.

Killing was only natural,
Instinct has always had full control.

I have always been aware,
And even when the end was near we were never afraid.

Always looking for focus,
Yearly losing my most effective thoughts.

And I have always been alone,
But never like this.

And I know it will end.

But you my dear will never be forgotten.

For I am infinity.
 May 2013 Shari Forman
David
I am the bone man,
That's what they call me,
Can you touch the dead like me?
My closets are full,
With skeletons we dance,
A candlelight trance for me,
I collect my bounties under moonlight,
No sight for sore eyes on the horizon,
Guns in hand,
Cold steel for the warm ones out tonight,
I've done this for five years in my Ford Falcon,
That's the only thing he left behind for me...
I've had no other choice than running,
My fear of self engulfs all things,
I have no room to be afraid of any other,
I am the bone man,
That's what they call me,
Can you touch the dead like me?
My closets are full,
With skeletons we dance,
A candlelight trance for me,
Maybe I'll dance five years more
she had a heart that
could light up the sky
she had a smile that
would brighten the gloom
on a winters morning
but she hid her beauty
beneath scarves and
long sleeved shirts

she didnt show off that
beauty until
he told her what
she had

that day she learned
that not every
thing is judged by
the outside.

italic c.s
 May 2013 Shari Forman
T R H
I finally figured out why you don't want me.
You don't think I'm good enough for you
You've got me starting to really believe it.
I never thought a guy could do that to my mental health.

And I've been too busy wondering why we're not together
that I haven't had the time to notice
that being in love with you
is making me hate myself.
 May 2013 Shari Forman
Rai
Fly
 May 2013 Shari Forman
Rai
Fly
I run my fingertips
Through fields of gold
Touching on the edge of your reasoning

Blue
A moment of sadness
Or the colour of tranquility


Ripping skin
Painful memories
A distance
A time that has slipped away

Single handed perfection
An artist of words
play with fire if you will
for tomorrow
My voice will hold the
Fire of a molitude


If the illusion of life ways you down
Hold fast
For we can never know
When life will deal an ace

Be ready to paint grafitti
Across the sky in the hues of your emotions  

*Let there be time to fly just once before we die
 May 2013 Shari Forman
Zoe
I needed your help.
I had come to depend upon you.

I am thinking about you,
but do you care?
...
Just a little something I found. :)
Hello Poetry


Yearned.
Ached.
For so long, for a community,
That values the ineffable wonder
Of a wordsmith's creations, intended to
Repair himself and the world with bullets of
Verses.

And here you are.

Like/Dislike, matters not,
So long as we value each others work,
And the the heart echoes within
What the eyes read and the mouth whispers.

The array and disparity of your names,
A delight,
Each name a poem
In its own right.

So I resubmit a question for your consideration,
The answer is now known,
The answer is all of us.
May 2013
---------------------------------------------------------


­Who's Who In Poetry  



T'is a curious thing,
these verbal peddlers, tribal members,
famously well known to no one,
perhaps at best,
a kindred few, fellow-travelers.

Each a troop,
bloodied, purple hearted,
word-wounded,
anonymous unto each other,
yet all bonded intimates,
in solitary struggle united,
yet sea-parted by the very nature
of the solitude of composition.

All poets are Cain scar-marked,
purposed for everyone to see,
a warning to rabbled boors,
imagination suppressors!

World:

cherish these flawed ones,
gentle these frail but gritty,
the Lord has tasked them
to be prophets in one tongue untied,
undo the strife of Babel's division.

Poets!

Be the harpooners
of the unexamined life,
with unfettered rhapsody,
comfort caress us,
exhort the loopy
to light their illusionary candles,
turn the sad eyed lowlanders
into crinkly eye-lined smilers.

With clinical observation,
dense and demanding,
make us laugh at
the comedy of our situation,
teach us our free-to-see peep show,
reveal, unseal us
with **** empathy!

For who's who in poetry
is all of us!
saviors and failures,
recorders and decoders,
night writers of the oohs and aahs
of dreams and nightmares.

When this poet cannot,
no longer, anymore,
tastes his poems upon your lips,
keep your poems within his heart,
then he breathes no more,
and becomes one who was,
yet is,
because of you,
in poetry.
---------------
Postscript (1/25/17)

Even more true today, than four years ago.
Thank You.
a revised, minor modestly different, version was published in Feb 2016 as
Orphans and Poets, Peddlers & Members https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1564122/orphans-and-poets-peddlers-members/


and then finally another different variant, more personal was published in
Aug 2016 as
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1734088/the-harpooner-of-the-unexamined-life


the harpooner of the unexamined life

"Be the harpooner of the unexamined life,
with unfettered rhapsody, comfort caress us,
exhort the loopy to light their illusionary candles,
turn the sad eyed lowlanders into crinkly eye-lined smilers."

writ many years past, just another dusted off phrasing,
composed from life's lecture notes, collected by eyes tired
from the hazing,
eyes wearied by the addict-strong,
incessant observational needing,
of celebrating the loopy,
they who make this planet
capable of laughing at itself,
a helping habit for mutual survival...

should you spot a man ungainly wrought,
weighted down by a harpoon cross
cursed  'pon his Cain-marked back,
you need not move to the other side,
'tis only a make-believe poet,
with his recording device,
seizing your rhapsodies to rhyme,
his collected artifacts, your crinkly smiles,
his meat, his metier, his chosen career,
a comfort caresser of your illusions into
a shapely sculpture of words for you to keep,
a token of your now examined worth,
a celebration for the keeping...
___________-

special thanks to those who rediscovered these poems recently and brought them back to me for refreshing cherishing these old word friends.
 May 2013 Shari Forman
Tessa F
Still unsure how to love myself.
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