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leeaaun Nov 16
I was on a journey to find my core,
Through heartaches deep, in search of something true.
A soul adrift, emotions all askew,
In quest of worth, I longed for something more.

Through winding paths where shadows seemed to creep,
I sought for treasures in life's vast array,
Yet each pursuit left me in disarray,
As yearning eyes welled up with tears to weep.

In the final dusk, clarity emerged,
A whisper soft, a truth that set me free.
The love of Allah, a balm, a key,
Now, in His grace, my troubled heart has surged.

Remembrance of what's vital, pure release,
In His love, my soul finds lasting peace.
The lesson I learned in pursuit of importance, our hearts misled,
Messing the threads of truth, chasing illusions we bred.

If you inquire of true remembrance,
I'd share the extract—life's secret recipe.
Remembrance, a tapestry woven in the mind,
Threads of cherished moments, in our hearts entwined.
soft falls the silence
gentle rain upon your face
beads full between those waiting lips
a poet once, but taking sips of watered war
has stilled your voice
and beauty speaks no more
Ghosts dance around me
and I am stepping on their toes
they curse me as I walk backwards
tracing old footprints
wishing them to come back into color,
that a familiar hand
and a smile I remember
might reach back out and ask
if I can keep a secret—
if I’d like to dance with them again?
tumbledry Jul 25
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Song so sweet
from the tymbals of the cicadas  
Summer nights back slick with sweat
Yellow light from a cloudy moon
Eyes glued to the stars
Remembering all the constellations I’d trace on you.
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Though you've left me, lost not found
It is your voice I hear around
Silence of sound permeates this room
A life remembered, hearts filled with gloom
All friends and family gathered 'round
I can't bring myself to make a sound
A love undying; a heart felt broken
I lie awake with arms wide open
In the dead of night, I witness your embrace
I feel your breath upon my face
I dream once, and dream again
Your love I feel, though not like then
As these ghosts of our love surround
My memories open my heart abound
Echoes of our love remain
Grief and silence, sound and pain
Those sapphire roses that I once bought
Say thee nothing, they were for naught
All the thoughts of which I find
The echoes of your essence remind
I see you not, but hear you there
Though in my mind, you're everywhere
A love as ours shall remain long and true
Even with only echoes of you
One hundred years ago
My Mammy was just three,
The exact same age as me,
When she sailed us across the sea,
All those years ago.

Just lately,  just now,
I said Mammy's Mammy's name out loud.
What was that, I asked.
For sure her name's not been said
For many, many years.
Margaret Duffy
A dog barked.
So I said my mother's:
A breeze furled the window sheers.

The dog continued to yelp,
So I said her other names louder:

I will keep the wind inside me,
And allow the dogs their day;
Your names will still be called upon,
In stress or tranquility.
The Irish have called their mother "Mammy" since forever.
wes parham May 29
This is good stuff that you need to know,
I’ve been writing it all in my head for a while.  
Because ever since we went toe to toe,
There are things that I now have to reconcile.

I recall...
I recall a camel-hair trench coat, green knit gloves and unfamiliar but smiling people. It was 1988.
I remember papers wind-strewn in a high school parking lot, oil and grit smudging the corners of awful artwork and poetry.  (I hope I thanked you for the ride home after missing the bus on my first day at a new school).

It was good to have met you in those formative years.  It was nothing magical, we just became friends and I needed one more than I could have known.

I learned…
I learned that a friend will nod patiently to interminable tales of obsession and unrequited love.  (You poor *******.  I thank you for this, if I never did before.)
I learned that a friend will patiently read your hack teenage poetry, advising sparingly.
(Thanks for that, too.)
I learned that someone might potentially be able to crash only “my side of the car”.
            ( I’m grateful that this "nuclear option" was never invoked!)
I learned about music bands that would become  the soundtrack for the best years in my young life.
(I still listen to pretty much anything by xtc, over 25 years later.)
I learned that a cast iron skillet may very well shatter if dropped onto concrete.
I learned that the best cornbread is a simple recipe and that you must pre-heat the pan.
(My wife insists that I prepare it anytime we make chili.)
1989, our senior year of high school…  I remember an overnight bike tour I took of our hometown. On a whim, I stopped by your house at 1AM. Unable to knock, I opted instead to get your attention by tapping at the window when I noticed you were awake and playing a computer game. ( sorry for the scare… )
1991.  I remember sitting, spellbound, to see “A Tour of Heaven and Hell” at the Center for Puppetry Arts.
(The first inspiration in a longer journey that would later have me working with it’s creator on five new shows.)
In college, I remember “our little ant farm”, the apartments across from our rental house on Milburn Avenue in Athens.
I remember climbing onto the roof to lounge, take photos and, of course,  leap off.
(Thanks for a Pulitzer-worthy freeze frame  of my youth in flight)
For that matter, thanks for some great camping excursions, a cast-iron pan cooking potatoes and, what-  onion?  on the fire.

This is how I come to realize: The darkness cannot outshine the light, since life will always throw reminders my way that when we were young, you were important to me.  I can not discard, too easily, that which is already an indelible part of me.
This is for a friend.  We once parted ways on cold terms and this is me placing a pylon in time, a memorial and reminder that time is a continuum; that people are multi-faceted and ever-changing.

It speaks of very real and specific things that transpired between us, mundane bits of “rememborabilia” that I felt compelled to reflect on and then reflect back for them to read, which they have.

It is my heartfelt desire that love prevail over bitterness, that forgiveness prevail over shadow and pain.

The title misspelling is intentional and reflects my friend’s abysmal skill at spelling.  I received a note, for example, with that very spelling of “tragedy”.  This, with all respect and fondness for the friendship formed whenever we both would occupy it.

"A 'sociopathic perpetrator'..
we will ghost him  forever"

But what is this  thing
  she feels..

Why is the picture  painted
so very  different
   from  the  one
   she now  remembers?

"We will help her to forget."
            .      .      .

The saving of one's soul
from that which would steal
is not done  in violence
   (Though it still   feels
   that it should be)

It is done in patience,
and in reminding one
of who it is they truly are.

     Tell me,  world
     of who you think
     a father  should be

And watch  me laugh
my mother-*******  *** off.
Tell me all about it,  world.

  And I will show you all
      what truly saves.

"When you came  in
I could breathe again."
~Young M

for my beautiful-hearted
little Yeepers❤
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2022
"The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness." — Vladimir Nabokov

Clockworks and Ferris wheels
mix time and laughter into their spin
and then comes twilight
and a vacant lot
of endless cycles:
hide and seek in a night-time labyrinth
and then the night walks begin
this fear of emptiness
—time is not a straight line

a warning to the curious:
don't ever trust the stars
to guide you
in the black hit of space
the warmth of our flare's lifespan
is a true testament to the skill and sorcery
found in every limb, larynx
and lovelorn heart
of this dimming voidance
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