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Ring of white rope bound to my soul
A glimpse of a life drowning away
My heart lingering on the edge of no tomorrow
Soaring cliff above all the rushing water

Let me lay this rope down
Unburden this weary soul
Never shrinking from what drags underneath the water
Grasping at unseen air to breath

Just take me down the river,
Don’t  fight the undertow
Just take me down the river
The sadness you don’t want to know
Just take me down the river
Don’t fight the undertow
Let this weary soul flow away now

No use fighting against the current
Sorrow and heartache is not the solution
Let go of the rope and all the pain it holds
Float on and take the hits

Raging rapids drives your rage
The drop off kills you bit by bit
Up to the last big drop
Into the deep, into the deep

Just take me down the river,
Don’t fight the undertow
Just take me down the river
The sadness you don’t want to know
Just take me down the river
Don’t fight the undertow
Let this weary soul flow away now
Purple Haze Mar 19
I finally am letting myself be free
from the thoughts of wanting you back.
I realized what I wanted isn't what you are now,
but the one you were, when you were with me
And that is gone for a long time now.
letters from the past years
​Much of spirituality
tips its cap at
surfing well,
the changes
of a human life

Reading the tides;
our internal compass

pointing at the outer world
following suit

Aligning with the cycles
of nature
hugging trees
while howling at the moon

Witnessing the earth
trying to be

Setting our leaves free;

Making space
​for Spring to bloom again
There is a saying, "You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf" This poem is a nod to it.
And now our story has ended.
We've said what had to be said.
We just went around in circles.

The world kept spinning and so did my mind.
I loved you but now I just hate you.
We just kept spinning in the same tangled lines.
Like we're constantly stuck in each others minds.

I let go not because I wanted to.
I let go because I had to choose myself this time over choosing you.
Circles that's what it felt like with you.
Stuck in a never ending nightmare of unloving myself just to love you.

You said my feelings are temporary, that I always ended up pushing you away.
What you didn't see was that it was you that pushed me away, when you hid and darkened parts of you just to show me the sides you wanted me to see.

I opened up my doors to you, gave you the keys to the doors that I've left locked for a long time.
But we just went around in circles, because your words and promises never materiliased.

And in the end... we were really just strangers, with memories best left locked up, because we never really knew each other.
there's a dime on my bedroom floor
from the day i moved in
over a year ago, now
my broom bristles always conveniently
missing its ridged and silver edge
i guess i love the way its perpetual glint
reminds me of beginnings

and the black dress i wore
to my great-grandmother's funeral
its formality and pleating made me
feel mature and important
in fact, it's still hanging in my closet
hoping for a happier occasion
maybe even a celebration
but i'll never wear it again

come to think of it, i've never
been that good at letting go

like my scratched up cds from so many days
spent gliding around on hardwood in baby pink
ballerina tights while playing barbie dolls
dreaming about what it might be like
to love someone someday
my favorite one stayed in the dented player
until the day i moved away

there is ripped paper in a folder
from failed scrapbook attempts
that usually ended in poorly cut photographs
taken from the photo box in the basement
where mom kept the grainy originals
of all our childhood memories
captured on some ancient kodak

yes, come to think of it
i've never really been that
good at letting go

but as time moves forward i find
less and less value in the tangible
i suppose i don't care for objects like
i did as a child

these days it's mostly burning words
held inside my throat
of all of the things i wanted to
but could never say
and yesterday's breath in my lungs
because i hold that too tight, too

and people -- no,
the idea of people
frozen, remembering the exact moment
they became the sun i revolved around
and now they show up in nostalgic dreams,
evergreen never aging, never changing
inside my brain everything stays the same
and i end up longing for a time
i probably over romanticized anyway

no, i've never really been
good at letting go
i’ve always held on to what i know
but lessons learned come with time.
here’s mine:

letting go is the hardest part,
but it’s a start.
Jack Radbourne Dec 2020
I wonder if you know
What we have now become?
You are that heart-shaped kite
Dancing above in air
While I grasp tight the thread
Not wanting to let go.
A Dec 2020
It's not goodbye
It's just for now
Feeling the vibe
Don't make a sound
No longer high
Just coming down
You felt the love I never found
But it's alright, I'll be around
If not in sight up in your mind
All of your thoughts
Even the light, and all the dark
Nothing in life permanent besides the scars
I apologize, we've had it rough
Through thick and thin
I've had enough
I think it's time
We've had our fun
Last kiss goodnight
It's not goodbye
It's just for now
Goodbyes are endless
M Vogel Dec 2020
Letting go of that (which we think)
can be such a risky business
yet those who have taken
the letting-go process a bit too far
though having paid the ultimate price
of loss of all home-based comfort
leaving us  within its holdings
to be inclined to consider them,  off-based

are in fact possibly the most sane of all--
having chosen to no longer believe in the system..

some drunkards,  others madmen,  world-wanderers--
paying the due penalty of their  non-faith
in a system, having claimed to overcome

A homeless vagabond  can die  so all alone
filled, with all of the non-comforts
of the beautiful insanity,  of these

the ones
maybe the most sane  of all.

Men walking 'long the railroad tracks
Going someplace and there's no going back
Highway patrol choppers coming up over the ridge
Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge
Shelter line stretching 'round the corner
Welcome to the new world order
Families sleeping in their cars in the southwest
No home, no job, no peace, no rest

Well the highway is alive tonight
But nobody's kidding nobody about where it goes
I'm sitting down here in the campfire light
Searching for the ghost of Tom Joad

He pulls a prayer book out of his sleeping bag
Preacher lights up a **** and he takes a drag
Waiting for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last
In a cardboard box 'neath the underpass
You got a one-way ticket to the promised land
You got a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand
Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock
Bathing in the city aqueduct

And the highway is alive tonight
Where it's headed everybody knows
I'm sitting down here in the campfire light
Waiting on the ghost of Tom Joad

Tom said, "Mom, wherever there's a cop beating a guy
Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries
Where there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air
Look for me, Mom, I'll be there
Where there's somebody fighting for a place to stand
Or a decent job or a helping hand
Wherever somebody's struggling to be free
Look in their eyes, Mom, you'll see me"

The highway is alive tonight
But nobody's kidding nobody about where it goes
I'm sitting down here in the campfire light

With the ghost of old Tom Joad

M Vogel Dec 2020
D Vanlandingham

"I really don't like you."  I said

And the water of all that love is
washed clean, even all of my inabilities

as I attempted to break, the unbreakable
once again.. yet once again

There are all of these years, you know--
all of these warm and cold, easily-difficult;  years

   too base for the show,   but still..

it did grow, within the glow.
And in one simple sentence

   I tried to let it all go..

But there's a water, beyond our abilities
that continues to flow

And I am floating away;
but the float seems so slow

This deep, flowing river
is the place I must go--

Back, into the waters
where there are mothers, sons, and daughters  

I've never been able  to fully let go

But I remember us riding in my brother's car
her body tan and wet down at the reservoir

At night on them banks I'd lie awake
and pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take

Now those memories come back to haunt me
they haunt me like a curse

Is a dream a lie if it don't come true
or is it something worse

that sends me down to the river
though I know the river is dry,
that sends me down to the river  tonight
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