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take rain from sky
take the way tall men straighten your stance
take the students of dance
see the little ballerina stretch her toes
see her mother warm with the floodlight

take your plea to the judiciary
take your eye to the statue of David
smear on the dust of Somalia
rub raw the frost of Croatia
refresh your aim in the heights of Angola
but do not stop only at this

breathe every impediment
trust every promise of clemency
stumble if you will
fall under cease-fire
take it all

take the watchmaker
bent over time
with fine tools
clasp each second

take the sculptor who
chisels and scalpels for the grandiose

later in your armchair
fold creases in your newspaper with care

be with every nourishment
be with the cloth of your nakedness
make sail for your harbour of origin

remember the milk of your mothe?r
warm or cold or sweet if it is so
appease hunger
with the ambidextrous mouth
of a soldier
fed with death in his jungle

be the bystander, be the bi-partisan,
the *******, the timeless,
the dancer
be it all

breathe each increment
do it now
measure the infinite
the possible


MChallis © 2015
in the pleasure of discovering
words rhymes rhythms
i'm a gluttonous poet.

day and night
bite of my growing appetite
makes me sink low

i don't notice
broken pieces
shattered peaces
around me

i breathe in writing
eat and drink
poetry

crazed obsessed stressed
my poetry
like any other debauchery
is an escape ride
someplace to hide

i'm a poet
subservient
to the pleasures of words rhymes rhythms.
Loghain, I am confused
You have proclaimed yourself to be
The worlds greatest living artist
With both pen and brush!
Nay, nay in your own words
The greatest artist who has ever lived
Who then am I to disagree
For I am but a simple mediocre man
With humility in my soul
And therefore must bow before your wisdom
And yet
Hours spent scouring the internet
Studying the great artists and poets
And I can find no reference to your name
Among the artistic greats
Of this modern world
Perhaps you are the artistic angel of god
And he in his infinite wisdom has decided
Not to release your great artistic prowess
Upon we the subservient illiterate masses
As a sub par human I bow
Yes I bow before the greatness that is you
You who deserve the accolades poured upon you
Loghain oh superior being
Long may you rain
The very last word is not
A typo
I had to go into town yesterday
Not something I enjoy doing
Anyway I decided to sit in the mall
With a coffee and study people
Instead of seeing happy laughing faces
For the most part I saw
Doubt
Sadness
And so I tried to visualize
What was going through their minds

The old couple sitting a few yards away
The old man thinking
Will I have another new year with my wife
Will she be spending next year sad and alone

Over there a couple of fresh faced young men
In their fresh clean army clothes
Laughing and joking as young men do
But what are they really thinking
Have I made a big mistake
With all the killing going on
I might not be around next year

The sad faced forty something woman
Shopping bag in hand
Why so sad
In her head the thought
I had to give the kids the best Christmas ever
Last year
But I hit the plastic too hard
So much debt now that I don't know how
I'm going to make end meet
Jimmies birthday next month
Poor little lads not going to get much

Oh dear, that weepy eyed girl
Dripping tears into her coffee
Black mascara tears
Smeared across her cheeks
Yep she's pregnant and her boyfriend
Of three months has kicked her into touch
People watching
When need to be with myself
sets in a lonely mood
mind seeks a space to delve
sink in solitude

I slip to that unused room
where a window to the north
paints a sky of white lily bloom
for dreams to merrily birth!

I fly above the town house tops
up the tallest palm
reach the clouds to touch raindrops
drown in deep calm

whiles pass mind travels eon
far beyond the earth
till lands back to anchor on
the window to the north!
Leaning back in my chair to give the crowd a scan
Outside the bar window up pulls a van
He came in with guns drawn, hands in the air!
Wallets and money liberated told not to stare
Gone now, reach into my sock for a 20 to pay for another dram
She’s brewing like rich wine
the older she gets
her each added faceline
my eyes satiates.

She’s huing like violets
purpling is her soul
tho older she gets
she's never too ole.

She’s frothing like nectar
honeying in core
feels endless this affair

I’m loving her more.
For all our conversations
It’s the silences I remember
Quiet times
In rooms together

You attentive to the preparation of a letter
an essay
or considering carefully,
music you're about to play

And me sitting on the sofa
Reading Carver or Whitman
Quietly appreciating your contemplation
Pretending only to be interested in what I'm reading

I do not tell you that your presence completes me
Or
How you feel from across the room

I do not say,
I am grateful for your company


MChallis © 2015
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