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mother was right
she always was
I know for certain
you can't make people
love you not really
you can guilt a smile
contrarily though
the real thing
comes naturally
by its own terms
by no means will
you be welcome
to the radiance
if you walk in
by your own terms
do not try anything
without an invitation
nothing too interesting here, I may refine it later, but for now, it will just be boring old words
The hauntings have subsided
but I know the ghost remains.
Two people could never have been more in love than the two of us. A spark at first glance, suddenly roaring as a huge fire. At every moment we'd tell the other how much we loved them and how we wish they'd never leave. Two hearts and two minds, completely intertwined. But now it feels different. The light in your eyes has gone. My smile wiped from your mind. Is this what love is? A flurry of passion then nothing? I thought love was to be shared, nurtured over time, a never ending passion. As I lay here seemingly forgotten, in endless confusion, It seems "love" is just a syllable, it's meaning lost to history and its intent ignored in the doldrum of life. It is why I now ask: Do you even remember my name?
I wonder if she still feels the way I do...
If I were leave tonight,
write poems for me.
Let your words go out further
than I ever could.
Use them to create
elms with branches that curl
in all directions
so that birds can grab to them
like you grab onto your heart.
But when you do,
squeeze out your thoughts
onto paper to keep in touch.
Don't treat your emotions
like a distant neighbor.

If I were to leave tonight,
make sure to explore.
Find new things
to expand your mind
beyond fence posts
set up by yourself.
Look under ever rock
and read about lies beneath.
Let your surroundings be
your greatest teacher.

If I were to leave tonight,
make sure to find someone
you care about.
Treat her like you've never met
a person such as she
Beauty never touched your eyes
until you met her
She makes oceans
move with lips
and fingertips.
Sail them with her.
And hey,
even write a poem for her.
Let her know you care.

And if  you leave tonight,
I will do the same,
With eyes
Black as coal,
I stirred the
Embers within.
The fire came
To life
And roared with
Passion unleashed.
Burnt my fingertips
And singed my skin
With a heat
I'd never felt before.
But all too soon
The embers died
And I was left
With nothing
But ash
And a mess
To clean up
Lefty , I can't imagine how he got his name
Always did things backwards . . . so . . . . .
I was not surprised when he up and went away

Never said why , when , or where he had to go
Now he is growing old where as they say
"Only God Knows"

What are clouds anyway ?
Water vapor in the sky ?
I think it is so much more

I think they are recycled tears
Of every broken heart that ever be
Falling to a desert below

My cactus flower
Blooming in the night
So none will see

She keeps her love close
Protected by her needles

I sit and watch her bloom
And before the sun has begun
I leave looking for lefty

And the reasons I quit
Are the excuses I choose

Between the desert and the sea
Where the cause will be
Clouds keep winking at me

The circle is broken into pieces
I speak in deserts of sand
Drown in seas of lingering waves of pain

And I have no clue where lefty went
Only remember a cactus flower blooming
Without the thorns between the two
A story of a crumbling circle of love and friends and on a journey to nowhere .
The bitter heart eats its owner
It's a fearful thing to love what death can touch

Their goodnight kiss felt like two blind animals bumping into each other in the dark
She felt in that moment that she loved him as much as it was possible to love anyone
What she felt was something like hard rain; violence
                                                                ­                      and brightness
                                                                ­                            and beauty
What formed in her mouth were the words,
Which of us is flawed?


He began to feel anger at the peace he found here and the complacency of the blue sky and quiet roads
His fists were in his eye sockets, his head exploding with the ruin of lives
As he set out, he felt a kind of happiness
He fell
            and he fell,
                               and the earth that we call sweet became his executioner


There is a point when the body relinquishes its pain
and waits dumbly
The savage animal eating his heart would someday grow weary
When do you stop being
                                           human?
When the body is so befouled, when you have groveled so deeply, when bitterness eats your
                                   bones?

The birds move from one tree to the next, building nests
This is how we live
The wind erases our footprints as we move
                And then one day, we are no longer alive on Earth,
                         And the footsteps are gone forever
The land is our blood, the clouds our hair

We are doorways, openings into something greater than ourselves,
Something that we don’t understand and will never understand
One cannot know why things happen as they do
We have nothing precious in and of ourselves
We are only precious that we are part of something too big to know
Every person alive thinks they are the center of the universe, that they are everything
When in fact each of us is less than nothing
Liquid, like a river
Season by season
Hope,
           and hope again.
lines compiled from Eleanor Morse's novel White Dog Fell From The Sky
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