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Jesus, kid.

I had unspoken hopes  and expectations
when I first met and started talking to you..
but I had no idea just how incredible   your
responding heart would become.
I guess, in truth.. I knew it all along--
anyone as defiant and pissy as you were
is only that way because of a "**** the world"
form of a really deep self-love..
(tho I'm sure you want to punch me in the face for saying that.)

Everything about every single thing you have done
and responded to concerning things I have said to you
or written about you throughout the years
can only come through a brilliant mind's  
own self-understanding--  
that it deserves,  and in its core form..  expects..
nothing less than the best  that the Universe
                can bring forth, for you.
You have fought it within the residual insanity
that tells you that are unworthy..

or too "bad" inside..

or whatever, kiddo..  
but the greater, truer side of you  knows

                            and has always known.

Someone  long ago.. when you were little, tried hard
to smother away the beautiful view of it all in you,
But your Dad fought heroically hard for you so that  the view
that is now becoming more and more fully yours
would not be stifled to a place  beyond retrieve.
When I first came across you in all of your
"little troublemaker-queen of HP", glory,  I saw
what your father had so wonderfully done on your behalf
in what I immediately felt had been preserved in you..
                         even in all of your pissy, wildness.

Unfortunately, he could not stay, and you were left in shards..
devastated to the core..
now that the brokenhearted-champion  of your
nearly-broken spirit was suddenly gone forever.
I still through it all, could immediately feel what he had
done for you..  and I fought hard from day one
to help you get every single part of that back in you..

And now, here you are.  You are beautiful, Arlo.
              You are forever Yrlo. xoxo

                            Forever.


"And I’ve lost track
Of all the time I’ve wanted him back"
~Yrlo

https://soundcloud.com/arlo-disarray-51645295/seven-years-ago
You have become his perfect dream, young lady xo

#oh.my.yerlo ❤️
Thomas W Case Nov 2021
Saturn is in
line with
Venus tonight
but, nothing's easy
when you're down.
The clowns walk
around, dressed in
yellow; fast food smiles
and cheeseburger
souls, and nothings
easy when you're down.

The dancers with poles
and sadness, that Halloween,
fires burning...childhood,
perfumed dreams,
kind of sadness fills the
navy blue night.
I can't find the North star,
and the jack-lanterns lie rotting
in the streets of Nebraska
and Kansas, and the candies
all gone, and the kids wait.
And I can't find  
the deep blue shirt I bought
at Goodwill, and Billy Burroughs
is filled with worms and earth,
and Bukowski looks at Satan
and says, "what do you
mean, we're out of whiskey?"

I've never been much for the stars,
and family and Thanksgiving are
painfully overrated,
and nothing's easy when
you're down.
check out my youtube channel  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wN63fddvsTI&

Parading through these beautiful Hills..

--You, and your entourage of a mixture
   of dog-like,  well trained, egostrokes..
   and also of men..   whose tattered boots
   you are unworthy, of even tying..

Traipsing across the Badlands--
your long  red hair, flowing..
giving off a stance, (as if)..

--You, and your entourage of a mixture
   of dog-like, well trained, egostrokes..
   and also of men.. in tattered boots
   that you are unworthy, of even tying..

Raining down havoc,  on the Beautiful People
simply for their having  within them ;;
  
Faith:
In the Great Father.. and Substance of Spirit;
Neither of which your cowardly Egostroke
will ever garner,  or ascertain..

But oh, you could steal..

And pilfer..
And destroy.

You will pay, oh General *******-boy
Your long, curly locks..
will take on a whole new color,  red
There will be a gathering..
A showdown..

A Holy Reckoning--
In that Montana field,  between the Hills
Along the Little Bighorn..

The River of all Beaten-Down  one's, dreams


injustice knows no bounds
https://youtu.be/bORY4LWuMlw

xo
Dylan McFadden Nov 2020
Sometimes, time stands still…

And I see,
Behind her smile,

The smile of Another

.
preston Nov 2020
Stephan W

She said, with a quietly-kind heart--

"Please, sir.. just promise me that you
will always be there.."


And so i was.. in my own limited fashion.
Time went on, and she-- thought that i,

like all the others.. had just moved on.

but I never did.
with ones like her, I never do

no need to.

blessed are the meek..
for they shall inherit the earth
~jebs

:) <3 xo
how crazy was that night,
immense darkness, brightest light,
wildest man, wildest woman
became one decadent human,
halved souls, find each other,
I could have stopped there,
gave up worry, gave up fear,
held tightly with his strength,
heart surrended with intent,
take my breath away,
don't need to live another day,
I had found it all,
why go on?
If I died there in those strong arms, I would have died happy.
But then my most beloved,  would not have achieved spectacular things,
our world flies on fragile, suspended, wings.
Strongest arms
Strongest man
Superhuman
A king from birth
Hanging out on his vine
Made me drunk on something stonger than wine
a love Divine
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2020
.
Seasons shuttle the tall stoic figure,
Graceful and solemn as wafted mist,
When seen, as if he was always there,
Overarching into meek, gloamy skies
Of mornings and dusk, mid day, lost,
Seems not right for wading out kills
That crane from above into the mud
And murk of the penny eyed waters
Only the ferryman will tender, for time
Slips, sleeping with the fishes, spears
Puddle and rim in the wakes, sparks
Of waters break like a sputtering fire,
His dart eyes are as yellow as golden
Sun dancing in funeral pyre.  So green
Creatures, must they always be gotten,
Gone, have it coming from the sheering,
Mercies of the Great Blue Heron who is all
Seeing, scything, down to dazed judgement,
Incited, pecking to order at the squirming fold.
.
Lane O Aug 2020
Endless bounty,
knows no yield;
in rotting garbage,
or fertile field.

Atop the hill,
daily bread is carved.
While down in the valley,
I wander and starve.

Taking shelter,
in the moors and heath.
I shiver and struggle,
to find comfort or sleep.

Dusk soon fades,
the sky jet-black and stark.
My bed of peat,
dew drops, and marsh.

Morning sun:
scorching and cruel.
I hope for a morsel,
some water or gruel.

I saunter weary,
eyes sunken and hollow.
The world is alive,
the birds chorus I follow.

Spared from the sun,
under a thicket or copse.
Sharp pangs of hunger
choke out all hope

Such a fortune given,
so ill a fate.
Forlorn and  wretched,
is forever my state

With strength from the Heavens,
I crawl to your door.
You greet this sad beggar,
with contempt and scorn.

I ask for salvation,
eyes hopeful and glazed.
But I am given no shelter,
nor provision, or grace.

Cast out in the rain,
sodden and cold.
My limbs are weary,
My mind in tumult.

Providence! provide,
Heed my desperate prayer!
Above the stars shine,
my refugee from despair.

I await my death,
If God's grace would bestow;
but I awaken again,
with hunger in tow.

Again I venture,
to your door for fare.
But another has answered,
and pushes back my hair.

Face caked with dirt,
streaked with hot tears,
they run down my cheeks
like raindrops so clear.

My shawl drenched,
my garments of grime.
I'm given bread and milk,
a warm fire and wine.

I am thankful to them, and my Lord,
to have a bed, dry shoes,
fresh clothing, and chores.

New days are ahead!
Such joy and ardor.
No longer do I rest,
in the heath or the moor.
this was inspired by the novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
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