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staring down stars
seeking signs inside the fire
I can't tell the color of my own eyes
anymore

just the bright whites
staring back into mine
flitting above the smile
that I struggle to give

where, who, what, when

why.

the Q’s transfuse into
plasmatic stew on spun plate
overfloweth

af.

seriously, the W’s
bend me over without even
a hello
I promised I do
But I do not
I do not want to be alone anymore
I do not want to wish for your snores
I do not want to eat alone, drink alone
Pray, cry, scream, fight alone
I do not want to sit in this empty house that no longer feels like home
I do not want to use my hands to hold myself, to touch myself
I do not want to spend time with anyone else
I do not want to wait here for you
I promised I do
But I do not
I do not want to miss you
But I promise I do
**** this ****.
The end is nigh
But it seems funny
When we're high

Will it end in fire
Will it end in ice
Either way
I hope it's tonight
It feels like betrayal to say your name
     So I don't
          I don't say it out loud
               I don't identify you
                    It feels crooked
                         It feels wrong
                    To maintain normalcy
               I spit it out
         It feels acidic
     After choking it down
I want to be here
    I'm addicted to you
         But saying your name
              When it was his too
                   Isn't a romantic confession
                        Just an adulterous taboo
Intangibly, it cometh and goeth.
Substanceless it slips in transition from one immeasurable instant to the next. Equitable to infinite space, in terms of distance, infinite time is a concept quite alien to the finite human mind. There is no proof of existence, it is a human conception with no sensory component, an illusion and utterly immeasurable in real terms with only a human contrivance to calibrate it....(and poorly at that).
Time is the silken zephyr on which we lay our dreams and aspirations. It is the currency of deep religion and is regarded as the ultimate sword hand of God. Incorruptible and absolute it brooks no favour, seeks no fame. Irreversible in it's cold implacable, unquenchability it merely, unfeelingly.... proceeds.
M.
Soft, the tread of feet upon my grave
Coarse, the hurl of language from depraved,
Spent, the remnant spirit in my bones,
Gone, the love, once resident in homes.

Blue, the sky that fills me with desire,
Love, the warmth which makes this life, entire,
Joy, the captured magic in the day
And rapture, when you witness children play.

Swept, the serendipity of life,
Slept, the day lost dwindling to night,
Sought, the motes of wisdom in the air
And laughter, wrought to dissipate despair.

Thus, the elixir of the soul,
Endeavour, as the essence in the goal,
Composure, in the knowledge that you're right
And onward, with attainment... just in sight.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
21 March 2024
 Mar 2024 T R Wingfield
C Conner
I saw you walking away from the sun
In the stinging wind and a coat of dust
Through the star juniper and bitter sagebrush.

We watched the sun spider for hours
Splayed out on the concrete wall
Like an ancient relic unearthed -
An Alexandrian myth.

We laughed at the thought of death
How does it bite?

I knew your laughter was deceptive;
Something hidden, aromatic and bold,
A breathless groan uttered
By the old -
Obscuring sadness.

I still looked away
And you were gone.
 Mar 2024 T R Wingfield
C Conner
Yards before us the smoke pillars call.
Feeling triumphant I allow an exhausted smile,
Imagining the call of the drum and fife -
A cease fire echoing
Over the formidable fields.

Moving shadows turned faces pale
Flashes of blue and certain sound,
From the east rose a line in sudden bound.
I stood tall against the wall of fire steel and hell -
Swallows fly overhead.

Before me hidden an amazing sight
Pain like an avalanche frozen
Through till I cried
One great stroke stole my fight
As scalding water seems icy.

Envious hot lead tore through my side
Splintering a rustic fence post behind
Me - filled with life overgrown like
The rivers edge a beautiful divide
Attacked by creepers.

My knees forget old pain
Before me I see your face
And I breath last words - your name.
And my hands are like mountain air chilled by rain.
Your eyes speak love.

The sky is gray.
Reaching out for you the ground catches me
And the cold earth feels comforting.
For you I fall today.
The air was warm , the warmest day so far this year . The sky was bright and blue with a brisk wind that made everything bearable . It was short and an unremarkable tribute that lasted merely minutes . No songs , no tears , no shame , and all unbearably lame . They don't lower the caskets in the presence of the attendees anymore . That's really a loss as no one can toss any dirt into the grave . I'll go back in six months after the grass grows over and the footstone has been placed . Then I will leave the state and never return . When the circle has been broken then you make a square and put a headstone over it .
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