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In the process of shielding
My heart
I broke it
Thousand more time
Before anyone could ever do
Just a random thought
Bryce 5d
At the ending of the world
there is a great unraveling
that celestial bow, wound into heartsong
and maestrate the caring music of things--
with these passions of the mind,
God seeking to unravel himself in the ever-fleeing
moment of philosophy, a Persephonic instance
in the archetype of love, psychotic and misnamed,
strait-jacketed in sin and given nothing but sweet
momentary decay

all the powerful souls connect sexually with the cosmos--
payed off, bastardized with a cigarette between their whispered lips
we hold no wealth but the ever-shifting dollar of life.

Fat Jack, fondly Catholic with angel smiles-- holds a rock of God in his hand, rocking softly
in god's busted gut-belly
spread like butter amongst the stars, asking all the same questions of Nirvana--
The last rumble of a skin-tight drumskin wrapped within a screaming symphonic twang of remnant souls--
Walking the notochord of corporeal form
the fantastic drone of rotorcraft, taunting the angelic lads and their brigadier God, singing psalms of limerence
Charlie Parker, musical sadness
Jack-man gladness
Don't forget them in the moment of monastic incantations

High-risen pyramidicals
Euclidian pitter-patter against the gusts and rains
in familiar, repetitive shapes the droplets of ichor
elucidate the frowns of downtown humanity
the locked door at the edge of the room, the air evacuated in fear,
seeking safety in the favorite belfry of an ancient wailing abbey
the dusty oil-towns of century ago
Imbibes the modern-day Maricopa plain
folk digging for dino-rock and black gold, selling dreams to downtrodden lost boys
the mistakes of RV park families

Farmland road
in Louisiana brew
the atmosphere, keeping personal thoughts trapped
a high-pressure zone
the ever-wandering
churning winds of eventual hurricane
the sequence that tickles Fibonacci's fancies and
calls us to dream--
a great Babel of God's consistent scattering heart.

in this great combustible chamber, loud obnoxious gaseous veils
in a low sigh our precipitate souls
smog on the failed shackles of stale blood
dripping this oil on the lips
holding friendly smiles
hiding sickening grins
callous, angry, the honey-chalice sought be not by man or God

Charlie Parker, playing the world's instrumentation
a track to follow
faded as the ancient road roaming
Rome's wet snail trail
blinking and shimmering into existence
a dewlit morning
the conglomerate rock is a cradle for human discomfort
admitted and hidden
to be a better hold than the hands of the earth
in these cornmeal roads,
digging out sugars from her *****
and sipping on the liquor of life in classic fermentation

to hold the road in your hands, the world on your lips
to tell the catacombs of love you would be her hostess,
seeking answers in the bones of ancient souls and refining
in deep sighs,
loving the things we cannot be.
Why ? when I needed her so taken from me I pleaded don't go stay with me don't think I face this world all alone

But despite my prayers, she was taken from me In the middle winter we never saw that following summer through
probably the best summer we'd had In

Helen would have loved it  for she was like a flower that died In winter but with the spring she would come back to life burst Into full bloom

Colour back to her pale winter complexion she lived for sunny days trips to the seaside to see the donkeys dinky doughnuts Ice cream by the

I suppose one day I'll go back but never will be the same not without Helen be
the a lonely place now without
Helen to keep me company on the journey
Remembering of our time together wonderful times
by the sea never to be forgotten
Destiny M Feb 4
Will I ever love again?
Or be afraid to fall .. all the love is in me and I give it to myself but to keep holding back how I feel in case of a mishap I wonder if I’m safer that way
I know myself and I know I can get attached easily so In order to protect myself I have to detach a bit not get my heart fully involved if the person can’t commit. I always know what I’m capable of and I don’t know about others . I’m still young and I’m still learning ..
YusufKudsi Jan 24
I wonder if I will ever find love in this world of hate.
John Licari Jan 6
I am NO poet.
I do not write poetry.
Was this a haiku?
This is probably going to be my only post.  I'm actually a composer, and I may try to contact some of you about partnerships.
As a kid, I remember watching the famous moon landing before I went off to school at the time It seemed so unreal
My only question did they really go to the moon and why did they never go back
or will they ever go back
so I repeat my question
did they really land on the
Just a passing thought strange but don't get anywhere In life without asking questions
Johnny walker Dec 2018
The last time I would visit the Hospital to see Helen  there was a Christmas tree by her bed I knew what It meant her last Christmas so
Helen and I both had said our goodbye's whilst she still holding my hand felt the grip of her hand slowly releasing she was taking the long walk to the
desperately I tried calling
her back but knew In my heart this time she make the light there would no coming back not like previous times she cheated death
3 times before against all odds
she had survived I got
to saying my finale fare well at the Chaple Of Rest
where Helen looked as If she
was asleep just resting  In her hand they had placed our wedding photo as I had requested
I kissed her now so cold lips said goodbye turned away with tears running down my face that's the last time I was ever to see her I had said my finale
Helen had cheated death 3 times before she finally died the hardest thing I've had to face to watch her die
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