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Nat Lipstadt Jul 22
Somehow, unbefuddled, it all ties together,
The happy endings get tied, knots well made,
Sleep comes easy, the light dims slowly, finely,
Clarity, everywhere, not for taking, just for asking,
Wanting is off limits, even inconceivable, and the poem.
Why, even the poem finishes itself, and to all a very, Good Night

a grownup lullaby
I’m not a fool for counting the days.

I’m not a fool for missing you,
or bleeding quietly in your absence.

I’m not foolish for keeping my distance from people,
for building walls instead of bridges,

For learning not to trust.

No—

I’m simply terrified...

Because I’m still in love with you.
Still crying for you.
Still believing nothing can erase this pain.
My longing for you has become a monster.

But I don’t fear monsters—

I command them.

I bind them in chains,
silence their screams.
But this one…

This one won’t kneel.

I can’t sentence it to death for its rebellion.

Can’t starve it,
can’t silence it.

Because every time I look into its eyes—

I see yours.

And I weep.
You are my weak spot.

My undoing.
I’m not a fool…

But I love you.
Daniel Tucker Jul 15
We can get
accustomed
to being too
familiar
with the
familiar
paths in life
under the
mesmerizing
mood
of
moonlight
starlight
or
streetlight
and
wind-up
taking
unwitting
detours off
these
familiar
paths in the
light of day
and lose
our way.
He was a cluck-fu chicken
And he brought his feathered fight kickin'
And there was no denying
That he was masterful and mighty!

He knew a chicken sensei
Who trained him day and night
The way to do instant striking moves
'Til his skill was out of sight
But there's one thing that happened
When push came to shove,
He had to bring his full-fledged chicken fight from above!
Woo-oho-HOOOOOO
Woo-**-oh-HOOOOOO

Woo-oho-HOOOOOO
Woo-**-oh-HOOOOOO
Bobcat Jul 6
I wrote a note in my head,
Folded it inside my ribcage.
It said, “I can’t keep fighting
With a heart that always breaks.”

Mom never stayed,
Dad was just a silhouette.
And I swore I’d never
Repeat all that ****

But I guess I did.

We screamed in courtrooms
Over a child I never got to see grow.
I traced his name in the frost
On my rearview window.

I lost him before
I got the chance to lose myself.
I kept his photos
In a box on the bottom shelf.

And I almost left a letter
Where the liquor lives
Something about being tired,
And out of reasons to forgive.

I almost slipped into silence
Like snow on rusted rails,
But I heard a little laugh
That cut through all that pale.

’Cause your brother said,
“Dad, are you okay?”
With a look in his eyes
Like he’d lose me that day.

And I lied at first,
But then I cried like hell.
And in the quiet that followed,
He said, “That’s okay as well.”

There’s a million ways
To leave this place,
But only one
To stay with grace.
And it’s messy, and it aches,
But it’s real.

So I burned the note
And kept the flame,
Lit a candle
And whispered your name.

I never got to hold you
Like I wanted to
But your brother held me
Like you probably would’ve too.

I left a light on,
Just in case you find your way.
I’m still here,
And I’m trying..
Most days.
Daydream (Ensoñación)
Drowsy unto death,
brimming with imagination,
I walk among the clouds.
My eyes close, and I drift away.

Between the heavens,
lulled in my own mist,
I leave all behind, lost in the haze.
Between day and night, in the twilight,
everything unfolds slowly, and I glide
between vaporous clouds and the shining stars.

Exiting the body,
gazing at those remains from afar,
far, so far from my vestiges, I ascend,
flying to another world, that world of pure daydream.

That intimate world,
a world solely mine,
where senses are lulled,
my thinking self asleep.

In that rare moment,
in my ensoñación,
I can see myself,
and take flight,
soaring.

Departing,
bodiless, unchained,
within reality, there are crevices
to leave all behind,
and dream of flight.

In peace,
in my peace,
in my calm,
in total serenity,
between waking,
between dreams,
a dreaming soul.

---
ENSOÑACION
Muero de sueño,

lleno de imaginación.

Andando entre las nubes,

se me cierran los ojos y despego.

Entre los cielos,

adormecido en mi vapor,

dejó todo atrás, en la neblina.

Entre el día y la noche, en la tarde,

todo se hace lentamente y me desplazo,

entre las nubes de vapor y las estrellas brillantes.

Saliendo del cuerpo,

mirando esos restos desde lejos,

lejos,  muy lejos de mis despojos, me elevo,

volando a otro mundo, ese mundo de la ensoñación.

Ese mundo íntimo,

un mundo solo mío,

adormecidos los sentidos,

adormecido mi ser pensante.

En ese raro momento,

en mi ensoñación,

puedo verme,

y despegar,

volando.

Marchando,

sin cuerpo, sin ataduras,

entre la realidad, hay resquicios,

para dejar todo atrás,

y soñar con volar.

En paz,

en mi paz,

en mi calma,

en calma total,

Entre la vigilia,

entre los sueños,

un alma soñadora.
Vitæ Jun 30
Morning light breathes
life into every flower,

reflecting odd geometries
that follow me hour to hour.

Between each step scattered
on the coniferous ground,

are my dreams, forgotten
inside a still, dark pond.

Searching noon for new eyes
is the easiest task, I feel,

when one forgets what isn’t real.

And as I kneel at dusk,
with pockets full of daylight,

uncertainty shields me
from the river trailing behind.

A devouring gush of blue moves
inside the chest of twilight,

and all that I hold dissolves
into a thousand new eyes;

and all that I fear becomes
what brings the night alive.

I am a fool to think
I ever walked alone,

for you are everywhere—
and you are here, too.

Only a certain eye lets me sleep;
and one remains open

to another rapturous beginning.
In these blue veins, a wild sea

courses with a stream of stars
from each wound widening.

Something more real than I lives
in the abyss that pulls on all things,

and yet my soul glows brighter
when it is darker still.
There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night. The absurd man says yes and his efforts will henceforth be unceasing.
– Albert Camus.
Trinkets Jun 29
Today I am exhausted,
dysregulated nerves.

Somehow even simple rest
feels like more than I deserve.

I wake up overstimulated,
somehow already sad.

It's like half of all the other
"wake in painful" days I've had.

Not really a disaster,
the feeling's bound to fade.

I'll wake tomorrow,
and the next,

just another day.
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