#sally - Hello Poetry

a dear one here, of long time standing, a decade plus, wakes me to four assorted pastries, poems of vintages varied, a dredging most welcome thus re-mind-ing me of the symmetry of: decade and decadent and decay, that is now a-pounding my heart, for they are poems of process, marking my declination, reposting of my poems, ancien and nouveau, stunned to see these friends @ 400am reappear in my life and wondering of the newer, the recent, the mining of recent months, the barely just gone by, and I like them but they are not well recalled… why do I barely recognize this handiwork mine? but the old ones, aged and beloved, whose name I could not recall despite and beyond the useless faulty head scratching, could not that mot be found, she resends and I, am in some way reborn reinvigorated and swayed into contentment… for one time, in 2014, once upon a time, wrote a flawless poem^ that will never ever escape me again, for upon my arms, my chest, my breast, my eyes my forehead, my damaged hoary heart, it must be tattooed and when the body rots, as is its wont, then again it will be my companion boon & best, once again, when onto the transversing to my next world, and in a small way, it is a birthday~wish at long last granted, an answer to my inky only single quest, asked once yearly, to know that-what, that what-if, what if the poetry ceases? ^^ <?> 4:25am I did not awake nor rise this poem to be mine, at this precision moment in time, but from every cell, it came, pouring pouring and not in vain… nor in vanity for there is no vanity in the hereafter nml Wed this poem to day my single and sole bride, to me, on this day of: Oct 22 2025

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Oct 22, 2025

Oct 22, 2025 at 4:47 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

The Dredging (Thank you Sally B.)

a dear one here, of long time standing, a decade plus, wakes me to four assorted pastries, poems of vintages varied, a dredging most welcome thus re-mind-ing me of the symmetry of: decade and decadent and decay, that is now a-pounding my heart, for they are poems of process, marking my declination, reposting of my poems, ancien and nouveau, stunned to see these friends @ 400am reappear in my life and wondering of the newer, the recent, the mining of recent months, the barely just gone by, and I like them but they are not well recalled… why do I barely recognize this handiwork mine? but the old ones, aged and beloved, whose name I could not recall despite and beyond the useless faulty head scratching, could not that mot be found, she resends and I, am in some way reborn reinvigorated and swayed into contentment… for one time, in 2014, once upon a time, wrote a flawless poem^ that will never ever escape me again, for upon my arms, my chest, my breast, my eyes my forehead, my damaged hoary heart, it must be tattooed and when the body rots, as is its wont, then again it will be my companion boon & best, once again, when onto the transversing to my next world, and in a small way, it is a birthday~wish at long last granted, an answer to my inky only single quest, asked once yearly, to know that-what, that what-if, what if the poetry ceases? ^^ <?> 4:25am I did not awake nor rise this poem to be mine, at this precision moment in time, but from every cell, it came, pouring pouring and not in vain… nor in vanity for there is no vanity in the hereafter nml Wed this poem to day my single and sole bride, to me, on this day of: Oct 22 2025