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 Apr 2013 T D
Tom McCone
slept* in,
                                                           again
                                     whilst the skies,                          patchwork and
                                                             ­        endlessly spinning
                                             amidst autumn air
                                                             ­                                                   with
         ­                                                                 ­              th
                                                ­                                     e moon,
                                                         ­                         the moo n,
                                                              ­                      the mo
                                                              ­                                   on,


                                                          h­
                                                         a
                                                          n
   ­                                                      g
                                                           i
                                                            n
 ­                                                              g
                                                        *  so
                                                    fragile* in
                                                 the         sky,                  a
                                         ­         sin     gle
                                                   drop of
                                                         ink
10 points if you get the title reference.
 Mar 2013 T D
Nizar Qabbani
My lover asks me:
"What is the difference between me and the sky?"
The difference, my love,
Is that when you laugh,
I forget about the sky.
 Mar 2013 T D
-D
I remember how your brown eyes shine in the sunlight stretching through your truck windows;
& I remember how we used to do the same,
like a bang & then oh,
such a whimper…
—-
but like a supernova, what we had brewed with so much energy
[all. too. soon.]
& it reached the point where we glowed as brightly as we possibly could be.
so our walls bounced off of each other,
& the implosion consumed the both of us.
-
so we continue to exist out in space somewhere,
mere particles of cataclysmic stardust resembling what we once were,
but what we had was lovely & brilliant;
(& isn’t that what we are:
lovely &
brilliant &
temporary?)
-
but hell, do we shine.
supernova: noun-- A rare celestial phenomenon involving the explosion of most of the material in a star, resulting in an extremely bright, short-lived object that emits vast amounts of energy.
 Jan 2013 T D
-D
a test--
 Jan 2013 T D
-D
-prologue.-
I've been wearing a weatherproof coat
for what feels like
1,000 years,
& if only I could know
the rain & the snow,
& how a storm in the evening feels...


-1-
a test, a test, a time to--
learn how to breathe (again) to
trust the wind to
exist in the dark-

(the boulder crushes,
crumblecrumble
a wave crashes
in&out;)

wake up--
open your eyes &
there's more to life &
there's more to life than happiness sometimes-

(the clouds in fast forward,
crackcrack
a thunder clap
boom&roar;)

-2-
come back inside
my mother ordered, as the wind began to howl
it's getting late,
& I would hate
for you to be caught in a storm.


let me sit beneath the aspen tree,
let me feel what it's like to be struck by lightning,
for it's better to be hurt & reminded that i'm alive
than to be safe&bored;&lonely;
inside.


-3-
there's pain & there's anger,
long roads & u-turns abound.
A time for what was never expected
& a time to be left unfound.

because darkness exists for a reason,
if only to push us to crave the light
there is beauty in brokenness, glory in downpours,
& falling feels good sometimes.

-epilogue.-
(eventually, the tempest subsides,
breatheinbreatheout
& the gale becomes a comforting whisper
remember&res;;).
b: mother

i: Father & me.
 Oct 2012 T D
-D
I am a guardian angel,
cooped up in a cage up north,
with my wingspan so long
but the bars held so close,
that feathers enclose their own home.
--
I once told a prince a tale,
of how he could find his voice.
So he lifted his pen
& he wrote her a song,
& the cage was once again closed.
--
I visit a lady in black,
who wishes to be left alone.
But I visit her still,
& she weeps just a bit,
just enough to be at ease again.
--
a ghost I once knew still haunts me,
though I’ve fallen from my perch up high.
he begs me for wisdom & mercy,
so I enclose him & dry his eyes.
--
oh, there are woes among His people,
not one soul is saved from all this.
but His angels protect,
& they clean up the messes,
but even they have a cage to forget.
here are a few verses to a potential song i'm writing from the perspective of a guardian angel who has her own list of things from which she needs protection.

any advice/wisdom would be appreciated.

(i'm still waiting for the chorus to show himself.)
 Oct 2012 T D
Jae Elle
.en route.
 Oct 2012 T D
Jae Elle
she took the next
train
& forgot to check the
destination

she skipped her
last meal
& left her deathbed
at the station


she jumped from the
middle car
after a few drinks
& a stranger's
dare


now she'll forever roam
the woods with dirt
& flowers in
her hair
 Oct 2012 T D
-D
there was a morning that awoke
to dreams of you
holding coffee mugs full of your words that you could never speak.
[for my hands were full&clasped;
with the covers of another lover,
but you held the chalice closer
so as to keep it warm until
I emerged from my slumber]

& there is this evening that feels
glimmers&flashes; of a new awakening:
awe & wonder & immaculate passion, too.
[the covers are beginning to recede
as I emerge to the brand new season
& reach up for the mug that awakens
& renews
& answers my questions
in the language that you&I; have always spoken
in our secret places]

come back to me, I plead,
even though I am the one who left,
& it has not been easy…


but I would like to unwrap the whispering whatifs
that have comforted me timeaftertime
since the day we first met:
whatif
our fingers intertwined &
whatif
our embraces became eclipses &
whatif
our paths intersected
& stayed that way on a journey for some time?
[just think of all the things we could see
& feel
& write
& listen
together]

destinations, destinations;
we’d be walking in crooked lines
composed of our mistakes, unpredictable emotions,
but our honesty & forgiveness would correct our straying.
[& we’d finally be moving forward
somewhere,
which is better than backward
just about anywhere
--especially to all the places we’ve been:
heartbreak &
harm &
holding on to who we’ve lost--.]

so you shut her door,
& I’ll burn his bridge
& don’t be afraid to sing Hallelujahs as I
fade to slumber on your porch in the rain,
for just because the seasons will change,
doesn’t mean that I won’t be standing here
to cover you in the midst of autumn leaves
& fears of Falling.
 Oct 2012 T D
E
Part 1:
&words; spill out:
heart-hued as a sunset accident
steeped in courage
&staining; my night sleepless

∈ prayer
our hands raise up to caress this newnight,
&cas;; scattered shadows like
spooked birds in flight

Part 2:
&inkscribble; spreads
fully across the tablet
of my sullied, aging heart.
Pages soaked&dying;
purpledark

weightedbeauty
after you speak the sunset-things
to fruition across the fields:
Nebraska solitude&desire;

Part 3:
&rising; again
on a third day, I must depart
&brea;; our day in two
(you&i;)

The sun&i; shatter time,
as the dawnmirror
remembering dusk
cracks today into the night

&words; escape
from parted lips&uncapped; pen
to fly above the broken world
as sparrows rising like

Son&Wor;; resurrected
pouring salvation on the stony soil
of our souls
like sundrench in spring

&script; winds verdant
vines around us
watered by heavenwords of
forever ago

Part 4:
&ink; fills up my bookheart
as I return it to a cage
&leave; the you&i; behind me
in a vagabond-blue nighttime
 Oct 2012 T D
E
Time
 Oct 2012 T D
E
wears overalls
and drives an old pickup truck

about half the speed
we’ve set our heart to travel

through this dying stretch of Nebraska,
our trail slicing west without end.

Time admires his work, keeping pace with
the changing season, and forcing us to  

follow: windows down, we fill our lungs
with the colors of transition

exhaled by tinged leaves that grow
up and older, matching the rust on the truck.

You finally manage to pass, and we leave
Time and his fields fading behind us.
Rough draft.
 Oct 2012 T D
TDN
A 1988 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera
A mixtape
Valentines Day

A tuxedo
A seafoam green dress
Prom night

A starlit road
A taste of your lips
Spring

A weeping embrace
A slamming door
Summer

An empty bedroom
A bottle of gin
Autumn

A silent girl
A disturbed boy
Winter

"I don't love you like I did yesterday"

— The End —