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Nat Lipstadt Jun 2018
why I love certain men


it’s a raining and writing Saturday,
a washout for the beach visitors who chose their
calendar lottery tickets poorly

but hurrah and huzzah for the poet
in the no-sun-today-room with
steam collecting on his face from his 20 oz. Canadian mug,
and the rest of him cozied neath a
wooly mohair knitted and tasseled blanket,
from a now shivering alpaca goat in Turkey or Tibet

perhaps we’ll make a tiny dent
in the 1319 poems
in the ‘sorta started to do’ list

****.
new one sneaks in demanding immediate satisfaction
and threatening my mind’s incarceration unless
serviced and unleashed as the Frenchies say
Frites, immédiatement!: (french fries, now!)

I love most men; certain men more than others,
not because they are soft to the touch,
look great in thigh highs, can fix a backhoe,
lay hands on animals, just as they do upon their grandchildren,
or write better poetry than me,
because
they make me weep from zealous delight at
their capricious unprecedented constancy of their
honorable actions

they are soft to the core, which is itself
wrapped in a leather soldered steel
which defines them by their self questing constant,
asking themselves preface and postface,
doing it well, in between,

what is the honorable thing?

this honor idea of which writ previous
doesn’t dissolve - indeed grows crescendo stronger,
like the miracle of the Yom Kippurs rams horn
crying out to heavens at the concluding end  
on the holiest judgement day,
a shofar miracle for it inhumanly grows ever louder,
ceasing only when nightfall marks a new day begun,
reminding both sinners and saviour each,
to inquire of their colluding selves on this forgiveness-giving day,

what is the honorable thing?

some are borrowers and some lenders,
of anything, the substance or the whom matters not,
but the bonding bonfire from which the deal is done,
is of a uncharted chemical organic chemical matter unrecognized
but millennium ancient


here I stop

the call to breakfast must be obeyed,
for it’s with lovely made, menu man-poet requested,
this is too an honorable thing to do,
and the 1319 half blood~half writs poking my eyes,
can be faced with new courage afterwards
on a perfect raining and writing Summer Saturday
for the next one hopefully and woefully

may not come till the September (Rosh Hashanah/Jewish New Year) when acorns fall

certain men will greet that fall Sabbath/ New Years Day,  
when Atonement begins, a ten day process to the final conclusion,
by asking of everything living and of every act human performed,
for the forgiveness requested inherent in the absolute bar setting of

what is the honorable thing?

which by the by,

is why I love certain women too...

and all who are honorable
will read this honorific and remain
clueless as to whom it is addressed...

oh god, I do so love that best!

what could signal honor even more...
When I was just a kid
I thought Heaven to be closer than It probably
was, though I reach out
and touch with my
hand so I could say I'd
held Heaven with my
hand
When I was just a kid
I thought I reach Into
to the darkened sky
and pick the stars from
their rightful place of hanging In the
sky
Picking them like flowers from a garden and laying
them Into pretty patterns
on the bedroom floor because I thought the stars were closer than they probably
were
Just as I grew to realise  
Heaven Is much further away than as a kid I had ever thought It was In
my mind no longer could reach out and touch
with my hands, It turns they hundreds of millions of miles away from here and the touch of my
hand
When I was just a kid I really believed I could just reach out and touch Heaven With my hand
Through your

dark eyes

I could practically see
the future.
No,
I prefer not to
look into them again.
If I was offered a fortune to forget you, well you can
guess what
my
answer would be It would probably start with
one letter of F
and
then probably end with two my darling no riches ever could buy
the
wonderful love that you gave me right up to the day that you passed
away
If offered all the riches In the world to forget you, well you can probably guess what my answer would be?
Johnny walker Mar 16
For Texas Is now In my all dreams a place probably
I'll never get to see for I'm too old
now
but to see Texas In my dreams to where my dearest friend It to where she does
live  
A more true friend one could never find, It, Conroe Lake Texas to where she Is right now
It to where all my dreams do lay but although we far
apart we'll always be true friends until we both go home
A more true one could never find she always though we far
we always be friends until we both go home
Johnny walker Mar 12
Never got a chance to dance with my girl something I always
wanted to do but poor health prevented us
from having a
dance
how I would have loved
to dance with her to
dance In the old
fashioned way maybe a
slow waltz whilst holding
her so
close
but If given a chance I'd have a last dance so much I regret, for that's the one thing we never got to
do
Would have loved a last dance If given a chance nice slow dance whilst holding her so close how beautiful that would have been, but stopped from doing so by health problems
The first time I met Helen
she was seriously ill
Helen had almost like a split personality one good
one not so
good
She required regular Injections to keep her moods stable but as time
passed although she still had to have
Injections
but her state of mind Improved she lost weight
and looked like she was when sweet sixteen again early days were at times
difficult
But because of my love for Helen, I stuck with her and as time passed Helen moods swings became much better more
stable
We married and Helen  became pregnant we had a
son the transformation In Helen was amazing suddenly she was flying around with our son In
his
pushchair
I'd never seen Helen like this before this went on for about a year till Helen was phoned by her Doctor one  to say she had Osteoarthritis she had a
scan
but It was discovered then her spine was twisting causing terrible pain chronic, Helen pain killers very little effect till she was prescribed morphine patches which
worked
but then after years of use It was found they had caused her breathing problems Helen had a problem she would
stop
breathing at night Helen had to stop the patches she had nothing for her pain  
she was finally sent to
the
pain clinic but the Injection that would solved her pain completely she couldn't have because of her breathing
problem
It's the first time I'd seen a consultant cry because he couldn't help her but that really was the being of the end for Helen the pain was becoming unbearable no chance of any cure so
sad
Helen suffered terrible chronic
pain which In the end could not be solved by tablets or Injections she left with nothing
So many places we never got to go, so many things we never got to do, to so many things wished we'd
done
Never that chance now that you've gone but forever our memories will remain all the things we did
To all the places we went then to my dreams at night of all the things we could have done to all the places we could have
seen
Sadly now you've gone I think of all we could have done to all of what we could have seen
Bohemian Feb 24
Under you pockets deep,
Has dwindled your wishes' screech.
Watch out,
Let me get you a mirth very meek.
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