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 Mar 2017 T R Wingfield
Gidgette
I walk these streets,
of which, I don't belong
Ever carrying the scent of
Death,
and vintage whisky
A visceral and demented
MayBerry hell
Still,
It is here, in which I dwell
Everyone plays their part,
Pays their bills
Me?
A mere ghost
haunting these wooded hills
A house,
I possess  
Home,
I lack
I wander
Alone
I belong no where
Everywhere
Just not here
And so.....

I wander
And belong to no one
A wanderess.......

~A
It's my birthday. It rains.....
 Mar 2017 T R Wingfield
Gidgette
Sun
 Mar 2017 T R Wingfield
Gidgette
Sun
My paper boat is sinking
In the mile deep salt
I'll drown soon
The moon
Only watches
Lusts
for the
Sun
What a drag I am this day. I promise, I'll try to be bright.....
 Mar 2017 T R Wingfield
Sarah Bat
when i met my first boyfriend i was a gaping wound
my personality was the hole my father spent years drilling into my chest
he was dating two other girls at the time
we all knew we were all okay with it
i didn't like it but i kept at it anyway because i needed someone
anyone
to tell me things about myself i could shove in the cavernous chamber of my empty heart to try and stop the bleeding
that isn't to say i didn't love him
i loved him even when he fell asleep without saying good night
even if i hated that
i loved him when i shouldn't have
i stayed with him when he cheated on me because i was so afraid no one else would ever give me a second glance
and because i thought i loved him i did things i wish i could take back, that leave me feeling alone and scared and violated

when i met my second boyfriend i had a crush on somebody else
and i was a scared little girl, far away from home and missing people i could never see again
my personality was a time bomb, ticking ticking ticking it's way to mania or depression or anxiety which is a lot like a little bit of both
the wound in my chest had closed all wrong and the skin was uneven and grey
i held both my hands over the ****
until he pried them away gently
keeping me distracted with conversation about books and off handed compliments

when i met my second boyfriend i was scared because i could never figure out exactly what he wanted
or what i was doing with someone so clearly out of my league
i loved him before i noticed that i loved him
and it hit me like a ton of bricks the first time i saw him
when i opened the door and the first thing he did was open his arms
and i was terrified because i am gunshy in every sense of the word
i don't like loud sudden noises and i don't like loud sudden emotions
but he was gentle even as he touched all the rough edges of me

when i told him i loved him for the first time i said in the typographical equivalent of a whisper
knowing he wouldn't say it back
but he did
when i called him my boyfriend for the first time i'd already been in love with him for months
when he tells me i am beautiful i have trouble believing him
but i paper my body in his words like wallpaper bandaids hoping they will cover up the scars that just won't heal
when i say his name it rolls across my tongue like rock candy; sweet and rough and permanent
when he tells me he loves me, even if he says it ten times a day, it is as new and wonderful as surprising as the first time
when we fight, after we make up, he says i'm sorry, even when it wasn't his fault
and when he looks at me, it's a little easier to keep my hands away from the scar across my chest
Temporary Shelter

It is such a comfy bed
that little nest on the floor
More than I have had
It includes a lock and door

Temporary Shelter

Feet cracked and soiled
Shoes old and worn
been walking this same pathway
since the day I was born

Temporary Shelter

They always smile
before we say goodbye
toting good intentions
making me gunshy

Temporary Shelter

From underneath the trees
my skylight was the moon
yet I kept on praying
we would get home soon

Temporary Shelter
Out of the bitter nest of emotions, comes the enigma of broken words.
It,s  a  lovely  crisp  early  spring  morning.
After  a  sharp  frost.
Clear  blue  sky  has  far
as  the  eye  can  see.
Very  quiet, no  wind  at  all.
The  snow  capped  mountains
stand  proudly  on  the  horizon.
A  few  holiday  makers  arriving.
For  a  brand  new  season.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2017.
The  English  Lake  District.
Beneath this stone there is a heart, it does not beat when we're apart, it does not move, to you I'd prove, my heart remove, its yours to take, but for my sake, to dull this ache, to fill this space that i did make, exchange me yours, there is no clause, there is no test, in me invest, you're heart bequest, our souls coalesce, our love confessed,

                      Forever blessed.
christiaan barnard was the first person to successfully perform the first human to human heart transplant on December 3rd 1967
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There is a man
     with only one hand,
in the 3rd eye of Buddha
     he learnt about clapping.

There is a woman
     with only one heart,
in the land ruled by men
     she retained her compassion.

There is a man
     with only one eye,
in the land of the blind
     he was ostracised.

There is a mind
     with only one thought,
in the land of the banal
     it treasures imagination.



© Pagan Paul (19/10/16)
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