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Hope is the thing with dandelions
For all their delicacy
And for every time they are an Unwanted
A ****
After the fiercest gale
We think that is all
They are gone
And yet every seed makes its way
To every nook and corner
Delicacy, Fragility
Like drifting through a river all your life
Carry on, carry on
lurking behind
that nervous but sensual laugh
hides an exotic goddess
pretending to be
a die-hard feminist

was it the regimen of a demanding mother?
was is it the separation from your misunderstood motherland?
is it the distance from your chosen lover?
or simply sadness from an unrequited love?

toss away the jin guo
and let the river flow.....
for this world to see
the true guan yin
rising within you

© 2021
guan yin : goddess of  love and compassion
jin guo:a hair pin worn  by. women
You hold pain in your palms
Like water lilies it floats around
You guard it with your fingers
But as time tells tales of broken pasts
Nothing can stop the rain
From washing the lilies away

Somewhere in the past
you were deeply affected within your interaction
with one of my accounts.  I don't know who you are
(who the person is that is leaving tangible fingerprints
on the keyboard of this account I am speaking to)
..
I can only guess,
but I am fairly sure that my guess is accurate,
     so I will keep all of that to myself,
so that you can freely and without fear of being found out,
go back with me to that place inside of yourself  that felt so well
met and seen back then.

In turn, no more *******, devaluing of love
the way that you do so often at close range.

If you pull that horrendously harmful **** again,
I will pull away again, but this time.. never come back.
That being said, I will not leave you hanging,
(or do my best to not to)  
if you bring  towards me  the need within you..
that through your memory,

you so well believe that I can satisfy
(and you already know that I am not talking about the ******).


You feel the deep, internal response--
from deep within that body of yours,  
when love warmly touches  
previously untouched places within you

And you spin them out publicly right in the midst of our
closeness of interaction (which I think is really cool),
just please don't flay me for showing my humanity
by responding back to you sexually.
I will keep that side to myself,  if that is what it takes
to keep you from throwing me under the bus, yet again.
The ****** (within the closeness of warm, loving connection) --
((even in the world of support..))
that very sensuality so perfectly parallels..  
through physical, tangibly-felt metaphor..
all that there is also within the Realms
when it comes to the spiritual.

Healing of that which has become broken by the fallen
******-up version of love this world brings--
that type of healing and restoration back into wholeness
is what all relational closeness is meant to bring,  and stand for.
You want something that you deeply believe that I have,  
yet somewhere..   maybe in another life..
I must have hurt you deeply,
or you wouldn't be sending  all these finger-puppet forays
my way.

Come and get what you want and need,
and if you believe I am shorting you your rightful blessing  
by missing it..   or simply just being generically stupid,
then instead of flaying me publicly,  
privately come to me  in boldness,
   and shake it out of me--
that which is rightfully yours-- my healing-response.

and do it brazenly,  with a fierce, yet open and vulnerable heart
the way that you have shown in your poems. Maybe in time
you will find out all on your own  
that what you thought was hurtful from me,  was felt
out of perception,  rather than what was actual.
If I really did do something,  tell me what it is
so that I can own up to it and tell you that I am sorry
for ******* everything up that way..
if, in fact.. it was something I really did.

I will only talk to you  from here (my M Vogel account)
so that you can rise and fall
concerning what things you need most from me,  
solely

by the responsibility of you,
and of me.

You already know that I am Paul.
You can call me that,  or M Vogel,
or stupidface..
or any of my other account names if you want,
but get inside of here with me what it is that you came for.

If it is something that I am able to give or be a part of..
then know it will become yours  in time.
  You have the ability..
    even though being spoken to this way
    both wildly turns you on
    and completely scares you shitless

    (and probably both at the same time)
you have  proven,  through your posted words  
that you are actually able to be a part of   and do,
what has for so long  felt so horribly distant from you,
   and so horrendously impossible for you to attain.
You have earned every single part of this very rightful place
that you now have in here with me.

Please don't stupidly **** it up the way that you so well
and so often do.
You are brilliant, girl. We both know that.
Stupid things are possible because your world has had learn
to be so incredibly indirect in order to survive.
What has saved you up until now,  out there..
will destroy everything for you,   in here.
But you are human, and rendering old things   dead
may be too much to ask for.. so I will tell you now--

that even  if within your broken, PTSD-filter--
you make a mess of the closeness--  at close range..
then with poetry, find your way back into my heart--
by speaking solely from yours  as you have.
**** me over too insincerely and callously  without remorse,
and you yourself will have stolen  you--  directly from
that of the deepest of places within my own heart.

Your call, kid..
You are not a little 14 year old  clad in combat boots anymore.
Yours is a living, breathing heart--
left withering  within the dry desert of indirectness
that you have  been forced up until now  to live in.

Every single day the sun comes up, anew. Those words mean
everything to you for a reason.
Through love and accountability,  breathe life in to them.

That is how you will make them real.

Let him know that you know best
'Cause after all, you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
without granting, innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong--
the things you've told him all along

And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

As he begins to raise his voice
you lower yours,
and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road

or break with the ones that you've followed

He will do one of two things..
he will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
and you'll begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong
(I lost a friend)
Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

https://youtu.be/5R4VE3sewoE?t=38


um, yourself
you gorgeous little ****  <3
SiouxF 3d
Oh the seductiveness
Of that deep dark abyss
Keeps calling,
Saying my name,
Come hither,
You know you want it,
You know you love it.
NO!
I don’t love it
And I don’t want it.
I recognise it now for what it is.
My uncomfortable comfort zone.
It’s there to keep me playing small,
To hold me back,
To imprison me
With its sticky tentacles
Of negative thinking
And victim mentality.
Bit by bit,
Moment by moment,
Hour by hour,
Day by day,
I learn to do things differently,
To change a habit of a lifetime,
To feel joy,
To seek pleasure in what I do,
To see good in those around me,
Quite simply, to live.
But vigilance my friend,
For it will always be lurking in the shadows,
To catch you unawares.
When your mind starts to fog,
Loses clarity of thinking,
Your emotions start to boil over,
Stop. Pause. Breathe.
Move your body,
Dance to an upturn beat,
Sing choirs of angels,
Jump for joy.
Change the stagnant energy
To one of the highest vibration,
To one of love
For you
And all.
selina 3d
t/w: violence, death

-

dear little miss dreamer
i'm sorry i couldn't write to you sooner
but yesterday night, i've read all three
each and every one of your letters

your mother sounds lovely
a brave woman, from what you've told me
if your brother comes by downtown
tell him, he's welcome to visit me

you have some big dreams
and i hope i can help them come true
i'm sorry i've been so busy
but i would truly love to meet you

you remind me of my wife
of her dreams when she was your age
we grew up together in the center city
like you, she was wise beyond her days

i agree, we need to help kensington
and we've begun taking some small steps
i'm pushing for a new bill to pass
but it'll still take some time to prep

i know you mentioned drugs and violence
and yes, i agree, it's completely true
please stay safe and stay inside
it could help protect you

actually, that just reminded me about kensington
my wife had told me some shocking news
a mother murdered at her kitchen counter
a little girl, shot, in the same view

i think she was writing a letter, too
but i don't quite remember who exactly to
it was titled, i think, "dear mister life-changer"
wait, it couldn't be— no, God, please, not you—
this is the second poem that continues the story in the previous one. the congressman send his reply, but... it's a bit too late now
selina 3d
please note: t/w: violence

-

dear mister life-changer
how have you been?
i know you never answer
but i wanted to try again

introducing myself for the fourth time
i'm a small girl with big dreams
my dad walked out when i was real young
my mum hopes i'll have an easier living

i'm in kensington, philly
it's not a nice place to grow up
with drugs, gangs, and guns
my older brother once even got mugged

i'm writing from my little closet
my mum said it's for me to be safe
but i hate being alone in this place
it's such a small, empty space

a couple of gunshots outside
it's like this every other night
brother's not home right now
but i sure hope that he's alright

there's a clicking noise
it doesn't sound very nice
i hear footsteps down the hall
they're not mum's, they're too light

mister life-changer, i think that might be my brother
he told me you could make things right
but why don't you ever write back to me?
why don't you ever reply?

i want to tell you my dreams
i heard you can make them come true
just give me one chance, sir
it's worth it, i'll show you

i dream of a big wide world
where i can walk outside and not be afraid
a world big enough for every little brown girl
to skip down sidewalks and enjoy the day

i hope to move to the suburbs
buy a big house for mum one day
buy her leather bags and pretty dresses
and not a single cent she'll have to pay

-

dear mister life-changer
i'm sorry there's blood on this paper
mum's bleeding out in the kitchen
someone shot her at the counter

mister life-changer
they told me to wait
i called the life-savers
they said, just wait

i don't know what to do
so now i'm back to writing to you
will you ever make a change?
will you tell me to wait, t—
wrote this poem that's a bit like a letter. context: a little girl living in kensington, philly, one of the most dangerous places in philadelphia, writes a letter to the congressional representative of her district. it's cut off at the end, and if i could, i would have added the sound effect of a loud gunshot. i think you would then understand how the story in this poem ends...
Her golden fingers
weave across my
cotton candy hair.

With my eyes closed
I let her kiss my face.
"Drink me in," she says
"for I am fleeting."

I laze as long as I dare
listening to the rituals,
The wave of notes and
flutter of wings around me.

I am the decay. I am the human.
Yet, Spring and her sprites
rejoice.
Is there nothing better than warm sun on your skin in the spring?
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