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ria 1d
and it’ll be as if it never happened.

and it’ll all fade away.

days and months and years
and nothing will be the same.

maybe you’ll be older and wiser
maybe you’ll be kinder

and it’ll all be a bad dream
something to shake you up from your sleep

and it’ll leave you to wonder
was it even real?

have i no wounds to heal?
the scars will thicken over
it’ll be brand new again

you’ll forget of love and war
and you will never mend

the tiny fracture in your armor
will create the same salt somber

that somewhere your heart is thieved
that somewhere, within me, your heart, it grieves.
CE Uptain Jul 14
I’m wondering about the state of my life
It seems as dull as an old pocket knife
No satisfaction in the work I do
No colors but grey and blue

I’m older now and maybe wiser somehow
Seen a lot of time go by up to now
Looking back, it was all so quick
Got a few memories that seem to stick

I remember love, I remember pain
I remember playing out in the rain
I remember people, time and places
I don’t remember names when I see their faces

How much older does one have to be
To understand the things, you need to see
Does age give you rights to win in a fight
Does it let you be the one to see the light

Now it seems that time goes by slow
And it moves based on what you know
Experience can teach you later on
It comes after the lesson is known

I don’t get too excited any more
There’s no mystery behind every door
Been there, done that and moved on
Seen everything I’ve been shown

Looks like old age is for looking back
Wishing for another crack
Wouldn’t do it all over again
Unless it came out the same in the end

So, I’m growing old just for fun
I got wrinkles from too much sun
Can’t say that it’s said and done
Any day just might be the one
I'm too old to lie about my age. Besides when you get old, you don't have to be nice to people.
Stumbling into ancient scripts, authored a decades plus ago,
ago being a modifier of time quantities, minute or large, unspecific
without an objective adjective additive, that faucets a stream of an interlocutory elocution of a batter of rooted emotional histories,
but not histrionics

fanciful words for dredged up memories, acute, but tarnished,
powered yet worn by a cousin of ago, a/k/a,
age
and yet
renews as of,

at this very second, as if it were a first, a tumult of visions, swelling of remembrances, embodied scars, and I weep anew but not
for me, as much for the resonating simpatico souls with whom
they even  now vibrate with resonance of the immediacy of
If not now, When?

Aside: The exterior environment is noisy wet pelting of thunderstorms and ****** sheets of bulleting rain, piercing projectiles, but I am safe in the sunroom, sadly happy my dog is no longer here to shiver and tremble, cuddle and be soothed by steady stroking

But I am here, wrestling with this dredging operation, digging up
tons of sand that require dumping, and I ask, inquire, beg:

Who will take this detritus off my hands, once more, now uncovered,
now recovered, the soil is already soaked and can absorb no more,
the soul is already soaked and can absorb no more, the weakened
heart, damaged and occluded, suffer cannot bare twice the

outrageous misfortune

of unbared recollections, twice, or thrice, and I feel myself drowning in revisiting pain, **** **** ****, these old poems, not nuggets, but boulders dropping from night skies, shot from a pitching machine, without letup, piercing of agonies that once ago  
freshly desecrated and decorated my basic training in humanity.

Enough whining:
I wrote those poems to
eject out those pains,
and I write this now, once more,
to realize that so so many still face
uncertain and unrelenting similarities,
doing their own sums,
and I wish them easing,
strength to compose and
thereby dispose of
the ineloquent
and eloquent
words of staining suffering


3:30am
Thur
July 10
2025
m a k a y l a Jun 24
i think every little girl wakes up one day,
and realizes she’s a bit different.
her hair, her nose, her skin.

i think every little girl wakes up,
and realizes nobody holds the door open,
nobody follows her around on the playground or picks her to be in a small group.

i think every little girl grows up,
and realizes she’d rather be alone anyway,
she should start believing that now.
the saddest part of dying
is what you forgot to do
the ideas born in lucid dreams
that vanished in the hue
the mountains never seen
the oceans never crossed
the poems written on scraps of paper
a lover's smile now lost
the tears you held inside
the chances never taken
the landscape of your life
an oasis now forsaken
"Praefectus,
What does it mean to grow?" Said R & R

For I am Hellas - Helios,
But you shall be Rhṓmē.

"Is it just to take a name?"

For all of this is taking?
You, I shall name Romulus.
For you I share nothing.
For it means brutality.

"What might you give me?"

For all of this is given.
You, I shall name Remus.
For you I give favor.
For it means kindred spirit.

"Where are you going?"

You two are nearly yet full grown.
I have given a verdict,
Remus is to lead the people.

"That isn't fair! This is an injustice!"

Come back with me to Hellas,
If that really is your perspective,
Your family shall still welcome you home.

"I deserve this! All of this!"

Deserve what?
Who are you who I named?
Who are you who I raised?

"I reject these ways!"

Good. You may still yet come to understand them.
Heed my decision. When have I ever acted against your interest?
Praefectus is the most honorable of professions, I sense no honor in you.

"That's your fault! Your perception! Your perspective!"

You are still very young, Romulus.
The brutal mind can incapacitate,
Both problem & thinker.
You 𝘤𝘢𝘯 choose to be either.

"You speak in riddles, fool! No one can understand you!"

Your brother understands fine.
In fact, he understands them perfectly.
For your brother, not you, has wisdom.

"I will **** you!"

Save it, child. I told you, I'm leaving.
Heed my decision. When have I ever acted against your interest?
You are not fit to be a leader.



What can one who learns everything
Always still have a chance not to know?

To be unbiased, to be impartial.
From Samothracia to the Apennine Peninsula
lace and distaste
affection and addiction
obsession and possession
the pain without gain
the rotting of the brain

the parents pride and prune and preen
you've finally turned 15

lack of sleep
little to eat
just take more medication
if that doesnt help, review it on yelp
and theyll say you just lacked dedication.

the adults find you fit to be seen
"you're not actually 15?"

the brain shutting down
systems start to drown
you're  not  in  the  best scene

welcome one
welcome all

another fool turning fifteen.

-Ajs
wow im a freak.
i hate being 15
this is the day I begin to feel old
the back is always sore
the knees are shot
the shoulder aches
my real teeth are down to four

a bout with cancer has taken its toll
but they caught it early so I shouldn't moan
what little strength that had remained
has left with my testosterone

my feet and toes are turning numb
my eyes are fading fast
it takes an act of congress now
to exercise my wrinkled ***

my memory now is headed south
it wasn't good to start
the only things I do more often
is eat, sleep and ****

but I'll be 70 come July
I really shouldn't *****
I've seen and done some crazy things
and I've yet to lose that itch!
getting old
My darling Jenny
this poem's for you,
A birthday promise, you can hold me to.

No amount of years will change
my love for you.

I miss your smile,
when you're not near,
and your voice is the one I always long
to hear.

I see your blue eyes
every night in my mind,
I feel your kiss, and I hear your sighs.

I long for you each and every day.

And when you are in my arms,
I always want you to stay.

So don't dread getting older,
or fret grey hairs and lines.

You'll remain young forever,
here in my mind.

Happy Birthday Baby!

I'll always Love You!
So me and my girl are in a long distance relationship
it's not as bad as it sounds she's only 200 miles away.  And I visit her often.

We've been together for 8 years now
But we've know each other since we were 17.
Anyway I tried to order flowers for her birthday
and they didn't arrive as planned.
She said just write me a poem Babe.
To which I replied that's so easy Honey,
every love poem I write is for you.
So this is the end result. I made a video too
but that's something I can only share with her.
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