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On your toes
nose bleed
comfort feed
tishyou in the bin
balance again
on my toes
**** that ******* hurts
just whipe my feet
less pain no gain
try again
hard skin
dipped in morphine
**** no more balance
wear are my toes
dose alice know
Balance
is not a thing to talk about
for balance just is.
:-)  P@ul.
 Apr 2017 Sydney Marie
nivek
We travel time linear together
more or less consciously aware
of each other
but we are gifted Butterflies
to remind that as we kiss the wind
a symbolic act of goodwill
the kiss will reach its destination
with the help of flapping tiny wings.
To the Poet Matthew Dickman



When you mentioned a crow
I thought of Allan Poe
Yet your words wielded
Allan Ginsberg’s queerness
Your awesome Americanness
Shuffled Allan’s wit
With your heart and gut.

You gave us a performance
But none of that heart and flowers
Romance
You were real and raw
On paper, in person
Personifying
Writing about it all.

Out of your world came out
The ardent desire to feed the pyre
Of ravenous demanding poetry
With no rhymes but sentences
A sentence which sent on death row
The rest of the worlds I heard today.

Words are wasted but yours resembled
A cherry-shed coke’s can, vintage 1975.

Lyon, November 6, 2016
Had the chance to meet Dickman in person and have him sign one of his poetry books for me
 Apr 2017 Sydney Marie
Colm
You’ll have to let me know,
How long that fragile peace will last.

How long you’ll be content with not knowing why something bothers you,
And why such thoughts will not settle and pass.

Would you let me know then, and how that was?
So that I can say, I've been there as well.

For the truth is that, most people are meant, but not for us.
Such people are nice, but not enough.

That is, in time.
They are dulcet and sweet, but cannot satisfy the vastness, or thirst of an ocean mind.
Not today, or tomorrow, or next week. But in due time. Perhaps also in mind. You'll see what I see from this other side.

*slow and honest nod*
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