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Heartbreak is only
the time that exists between
two eras of love.
 Nov 2017 Tammy M Darby
The Noose
I stopped writing about love
When I realised  
I am incapable of
Discerning between people who love me
And people who lie to me.
My intentions are not to expose
The depths of her trouble aren't mine to disclose
But like evening rain on the petal of a rose
It drips down to the earth and begins to compose
Ten minutes into my fifth shot
I'm beginning to give meter and -
rhyme all I've got
A half hour after I've had my fill
I'm a man on a mission with a golden quill* ..
Beef jerky and Wild Turkey
An inebriated mind on yesteryears -
journey
Pain riddled in poetic schemes
Purgatories insider inking bellicose themes
..
Copyright November 26 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I scoffed at ghost stories
Greeted death's very door with a scowl*     
I never knew 'bone chilling fear' till the night I heard a bobcat howl...
Copyright November 26 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Nov 2017 Tammy M Darby
Colm
Descriptive that is you
Intensive that is me
Smithing you could be my steel
And I the bellowing breath beneath
To coax the coal until it bursts
And explodes into this
The burning flame
Because all words of fire are in some way...the same.
 Nov 2017 Tammy M Darby
Mr E
I notice the face at first
I see where they look, how they react
I can tell the curious ones
I can tell the boring ones
What one stares at reveals so much

I can see their expressions
Are they reserved? Outright?
I can tell the confident ones
I can tell the shy ones
How one acts tells me their worlds

As light reaches you before sound,
What I hear next confirms my prior assumptions
I prompt conversation knowing the outcome,the response
If wrong I recalculate and return to better understand you
It's just a little game I like to play
A game that tells me exactly what I knew
The game that tells me all of you
Yellow clucking hens off to the -
barn at dusk
They pick their evening perch without a -
fuss
The rooster nudges his harem with-
a morning song
They hit the ground running at the crack of dawn

Ole Mister Boar is down by five
He snores an grunts all through the night
Rolls over in the morn to the '****-a-doodle-doo'
Falls back asleep till a half past two* ..

Hay Farmer Bill is a sight indeed
Rides a red tractor in the Piedmont heat
Works all day like a blackstrapped mule
Whistlin' in the field with a chaw or two o' chew
..
Copyright November 26 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I was thinking that this is a good time
to
catch up with some friends of mine
unfortunately
they weren't thinking the same

unlike me
they didn't have the urge to see
what scandals the clock had
marked on me

a good time?
guessing it's any time we enjoy.

I enjoy old time,
pre decimal
when dinosaurs were commonplace
and holidays were spent at home.

Christmas?
what yuletide ride on you on?

Christmas has gone mate
sold off to China by
the welfare state

no presents for anyone.

There's a moral clause
for Santa

dilemma's are the nemesis
we can
stay indoors, get wired
or
go to work, get fired

I want to be inspired.

Drop me from a B52
you can do it
I
know you can.

Now
I'm
off the beaten track
eaten dinner
can't go forward
can't head back
limbo
looms,
which reminds me of the old
cotton mills
on the rolling hills of Lancashire
and the yolk yellow eye of
the fried egg sky
in those Summers
long ago.
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