Poet, can I reliably conclude that things are good, since you have stopped (estoppel) writing poetry?

~for her, whose muse has fled, but not to Canada, one more last time!~

<>

a writers block of a two-step dancing duration,
we stumble on her green light status,
she’s alive, she’s up in Canada, so
do the obligatory checkin in, checking out

and that It occurs my next question is
a superlative poem title challenge for
the lady with the eyebrow extensions,
and other ways she found to make me laugh

so for her, for me, and perhaps for you,
I commission myself with a task, knowing
not where this will demise eventually

can I reliably conclude that things are good,
since you have stopped writing poetry?

which is a ****** self-mockery cause my dopamine
levels are ***** high when Mercury is yet in
retrograde, my serotonin is sinkhole sinking
in anticipation of Saturn’s Return returning,
the solstice just passed by, my full moon
phase is super glue stuck in the fourth
house of/if the rising sun

if things ain’t *****, why write?
is its therapeutic healing power aside,
maybe, baby, one, or two, can one, reliably
conclude that things are good, now that
you have stooped to estop
writing your poetry?

God I hope so otherwise I’ve embarrassed myself,
wisely forgot to dedicate this you-inspired-silliness
(by name, gender, bio markers, tribal incantation)
with a serious undertone, and
a writ of estoppel attached,
but you know already this
ones just for you,
and your many
toddler children
to whom you
attend to daily,
as they draw
strength from
sun and rain,
dark soil and
you.

natty

p.s. always use your turning signals

It feels like particles are peeling apart
Connecting
Separating as they please
There is undeniable space growing in my heart
Observable to who peeks and sees

Fate to blame I have no doubt
Touching tears that won't mend
Beneath skin circuits start to short-out
Barriers between emotions blur and blend

Real is rare so bare all imperfections
Fake the majority of what others share
Everywhere I go is overdissection
Judgement is blatantly unfair

Which only adds to distress
Taken without one sound
Cork up inconvenient emotions unless
They overflow
Then I'm drowned

You cannot imagine what it's like
Kills self-esteem to reflect
Each time negativity strikes
Is impossible to correct

Bottle after bottle emerges emptied
Sink in a sea of distraction
Forever smoky air will not recede
Chilly dreams prevent satisfaction

None of our dreams visible anymore
What are we doing wrong?
Many bad decisions
Too many to ignore
I guess failure's where we belong

We will never be proud living like this
We are in darkness's constant shadow
Sins overtake any chance we have at bliss
Dragging troubles in tow

Trust we will be able to grow
Takes years to heal wounds deep
Bridges over teardrops that flow
Seconds wasted we could not keep

To conclude
Retain a sliver of hope
Though happiness may be lost
I build and maintain ways to cope
Stay warm amidst the permanent frost

Pull back from me to
clear through your clutter
Only guidance can be offered for
the effects we have on ourselves
and others
Observe our actions from above
as a higher state helps to adjust
Step up from who and where you are
to be the change you want to make
Assess, review and conclude
For only we can improve our fate

By cold logic you arrive,
not through panic nor insanity,
for they are something separate.

You recall those who witnessed,
through blinded eye the beginnings.
Those seemingly oblivious of your falling to this place,
and who could offer no sanctuary or escape.

In your mind the inaction testifies, of a value you no longer hold.
Not just in your place of open eyed awareness,
But also in their world of illusion,
where you no longer belong.

There are two pathways ahead.
But only one will each choose according to their need.
Emotional pain made into the physical
Or the ending of pain both felt and caused, both past and future.

At the beginning and in the intermediate,
the times when cries for help prevailed.
Not consciously shouted but through changes,
altered interaction with the world as it once was.

To those who bore witness to beginning and middle,
at this stage comes the "why?".
"I saw it"...."Why did I not see this outcome?".... "I knew",???

To those who have not been here,
There seems to be no logic,
They cannot see from where they stand the simple rationale.
So contrary and beyond sight
that only the tag of insanity gives explanation.

At the beginners guide just so the numbers who sought to read.
At the intermediate a lesser number could give an interest.
The despair of others an unwanted knowledge and the readings so reflect a reality best kept unvoiced... too disturbing to the ear.
And fewer now here... dear reader... eyes uneducated still asking why.... you few are too late to understanding and by now despair has been defeated.