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shelby Sep 3
the last thing I remember was you driving up the driveway and stopping to give treats to the dogs like you always did. You were the strongest person I knew, a giant of life, of love, of what's right. Your silver hair circled around the top of your hair like a shore inching towards invading the water. I never remember you being the least bit sick, sad, unhappy. You were the rock of our family.

That day was my birthday. you never missed a birthday or holiday or just a chance to get to tell us how much you love us even more. The day everything changed was my sisters birthday. We knew things weren't right when you hadn't texted her happy birthday, you were always the first one. I knew you were getting older, but this was just something you could get checked out and you'd be home that night. I kept telling myself it was gonna be okay, you were stronger than any worldly thing I knew.

The doctors said the swelling on your brain was going to be too much, and you'd never be that same giant of life I knew before. I still had the hope in my heart that you'd wake up and call me shelbs and hug me in the arms that I latched on to ever since I came into your life. That you'd get up and you'd be feeding the turkeys and deer the next morning. That you'd be there at Christmas and thanksgiving and my graduation and my wedding. The hardest thing I ever had to do was tell you it was okay to move on, that your job was done here on this earth, and I needed you to take care of me from above.

I write this after looking through the things you left behind. I put on the shirts that still smell like you. I slip my arms through the tunnels of the the sleeves and I remember your arms and how they wrapped all the way around me when you held me. My favorite item of them all- a series of post it notes full of your wit and thoughts. The one I love the most-

God has you in His arms, I have you in my heart.
that fog horn blows,
worries my mind, lord knows, we don’t need,
more obstacles in this tired world, so the horn
trying, to be blowing fog away, without success

the sound’s remainder air-lingers like foam bubbles
ridden down to coffee cup bottom, resisting, protesting,
refusing to expire, useless/nonetheless, says no dying

sole boat outlined, bout mile out, must be anchored, it’s
unmoved by fog danger or noise, fishing is my informed
best guess, but fish ain’t stoopid, swimming another way

the fog horn wakes the woman who looks askance
cause there is neither coffee or a newly christened
poem upon her nightstand, an explanation is sought

“stand by me,” I sing, “be unafraid my darling, stand now,
stand by me,” poet said “been guarding our bed, this long
foggy night, agin interlopers, bad dreams and sea troubles”

shied ‘em away, knowing that when a man loves a woman,
she can lean on him, cause he’s load bearing, her safety is
always first, poem second, coffee coming, with sun rising

she bemused, funny you’re, kooky like the poems you’ve up-
written all night, up all life long, all stored up in my nightstand,
you’re sweet, like  Tennessee whiskey, ignore my scowling my own
poet-mr. coffeeman-sea guardian, you’re alright with me
I step out of bed each day
and collapse upon the floor.
Why I pick myself up and how
are a mystery every morning.

Like someone whispering,
"Don't give up yet.  You still have hope.
And hope is the light that will guide you home."
So I keep moving, keep breathing,
keep loving, keep failing.
But I keep living.

And every morning
when I'm tired of this life,
ripped to shreds and worn to the bone,
I hear a voice that reminds me,
weary I may be,
I know that when I fall
someone will catch me,
even if it is the ground.
I thank God for my guardian angel and those who help me continue on.
At the corner of my eye
A large, colorful butterfly
Lands on a flower bush
In aggravation, I shush
The brutal wind
And open my mind
To the thought of
My angel above
Ever so holy
Watching me closely
Through the beady eyes
Of the butterfly.
Thoughts?
Chandler M Feb 5
Assigned at birth
I'm your Lenta
Use me anyway possible
First for love
Hug me
Pick that up, please
Now you've...
You're the same.
Just a little bit of ferocity
**** them
Grab him
Put him in the Sanction
It's the same.
It's the same...
You may not be able to prevent the rain from falling on a hot summers day
You may not be able to make the lightning and thunder go away
You know when to appear
Taking away all that I fear
Your arc is so powerful
I can face any puddle
And get through the struggle
Your light shine so bright  
Making everything alright
How lucky I’m I to have you up there watching in the sky
You are more than seven colours, you are filled with millions hidden to the naked eye

There is no *** of gold at the end of the rainbow
You are the treasure everyone is searching for
Open your eyes to the beauty that lays all around.
Sylph Oct 2019
Why
They come and go
What
could possibly go wrong
If they just
stayed

You said you were my Guardian Angel
That you would come back
10 years time
Im so naive

I dont need you
I know i dont
But i sure as hell want you

Why are people so cruel? And why am i so naive? Why cant i grow up?
J J Sep 2019
On again,off and then departing
From homeward sail based in the sky--
I heard the woman gowned in all phantom white
Wandering the gardeny streets,
Her barefooted steps concussing the concrete.

She walked beside me and watched as I trembled
With her eyes that windowed memories in the same way
A camera captures a scene or a seashell a slice of the ocean
And I never think to ask the whole story.

Her lips permanently signal silence,
Her skin porcelain like her nails and teeth
   And when she speaks,it's in a lilt so light it sparks your bones.

'Do you think it should rain later this morning?'
As relayed,my bones spark and my heart edges closer
To my throat. 'The sky is static-grey and gloomy as is'
She replied 'yes, but some rain would give it some character'

We spent the remaining wander without a word
   Then the woman dissapeared. On my way home
I felt droplets bite through the fabric of my shoes
    And I suppose the woman got her answer.
Sunny white morning brushed through the bushy clouds.
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