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n-khrennikov Aug 31
A melancholy and a fortune charm
The tale of history I love you
Forest every conversation, eyelids closed.
The wind burns in flame to medium.
However, everything is still secretly spinning,
a guard, thorn in the heart ..
It checks the story opens the truth.
n-khrennikov ©
not my mother, but
those before
were teachers of stillness—
to choose it, feel whole in it
bow to it
and wait…

across oceans
my mothers wrote their stories with pencil,
or fingers in thin air
words carried, indelibly
over miles and mountains
in strands and time—

waiting to be found

I see them sometimes
caught in a turning breeze
suspended in Fall colours

clinging to another mother’s web

I feel their warmth in the weak winter sun
more persistent now
following the horizon

I hear them in my dreams, the anguished ones
lead-heavy and fallen
overgrown with raveled life
and rusted

On my tongue melting like honig kuchen

Rising in wood fire
and spring soil

they are my words now
to tend to, crystalline
and holy

I wait
and i sing
Because we are made up of our ancestors. But can remake ourselves too.
Of late been spending so
much time between
dreams It must be the
the medication I'm now
on
Seem very distant vague
sleep so much, all I seem
to do and of cause my
poetry writing can't do
without
My need to write poetry hope don't get writer block
Our backs hold stories
Not even the spine
On a book can handle
Crop fields, once
Today tall grass has taken
Vigil on the hills
Named for old dead boys

Grass aplenty (surely
Two, five, ten winters
Steeped in lead, bloodied,
Washed clean in rain
Could feed a generation)

And then the sun
Always beating, Drumming
Sweat before my eyes
My life—flashing— a lark—

Here in this meadow
Two Men came to slaughter for a train yard
Between the mountain passes and the river
And the Run, once dried, is spilling over

With blood, with clay, for
Sons and daughters of
Virginia, these American tales
(Contested, my chains for soil...)

Pass whispered between
Mothers and little ones, the words
A lineage: Captain to farmer,
Farmer’s granddaughter

I witnessed the passing of our story
From one generation
And I stood by
The long and winding road.   (2)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The long and winding road.
Hopefully that leads to my Baby’s door
Evokes fear n dread ‘cause I ain’t been afore

Long and winding roads not my specialty
Only my princess is in big trouble I guess.
Never calls for help, this time it’s serious
*** knows what she has been up to ?

And she seldom takes advice. Not from Me.
Nor from her poor mother, they didn’t get on.
Doors used to slam if this girl lost control.

Winding road driving is t’  last thing I wanna do
I still have not recovered my senses yet.
Not since *** took my wife off to Heaven
Do you know how that makes one feel ?
I am washed up stranded missing everything
Nothing really matters except everything.
Grief is something that there are no lessons for

Really all you can do is make the best of things
On this long and winding road thru the desert
A mission to rescue my dearest daughter.
Daddy hears you Baby. I’m on my way. !!!  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
November 8th 2018.
Episode (2).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
Family ties. Winding roads. Rescue Princess
RixusPrime Nov 8
My eyes are open to the pleasures of this world.
I do not hide it
I will not deny it.
I embrace the darkness within and remain aware of the light around.

I seek no comfort in the opinion of others or solace in the companion of friends.

I was born alone, I will die alone.
I serve no cause but my own.
I may be different, but still I'm only human.
The long and winding road.
Highways that never end
Especially when they have repairs

Long mile after mile after mile
On valleys without a sun’s blessing
Nor a single tree or prairie grass in sight
Gas and diesel stations few n far between

Anxiousness building from a lack of fuel.
No wonder it feels like a long and winding road
Do you think she will be there when you arrive?

When you received that frantic text message
In the middle of the night. Help me. Super-poet
Now that I know that I can trust you HELP !!  
Don’t you always find that ? When your busy
In the middle of the night , dreaming dreams
Never hearing from your lil princess in weeks
Goodness knows what she has been up to ?

Road trips never were my favourite pastime
On a long and winding road into the desert
And I understand that you now need rescuing
Daddy hears you Baby. I’m on my way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
November 8th 2018
Episode (1)
Long and winding road. Dreams. Desert. Fathers.Daughters. Rescue.
"Tell me a story,
would you please?
I fear the monster
That burns my knees

In the middle of the night
It claws the carpet slow
I shiver in fright
The air turns cold!"

"Hush, my dear, do not be afraid -
What you see is but the fade.
It was once a being, just like us
What monster could be so monstrous

Than the one we see everyday?"
I  don’t mean to compare,
Past and the present,
It’s just a game I play,
What-ifs of my existence,
I have a vivid imagination.

I am sans the thoughts,
That makes it appropriate,
The wordplay, I indulge in,
I am sans the guilt,
Of the aftermath it brings.

Many are held captive ,
More are repulsed,
The gears in action,
Churning, burning ,moving,
I keep going on.

I don’t mean hurt,
I see, you are enraged now,
It’s where I stop the play,
It’s not a test or measure,
These are just stories,
So hear me now .
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