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Timothy Mooney Jun 2011
I like trees, so lush and green
( Ghosts of  Winter, Dark, and Mean)
Tall and stately, steadfast, true
( Phantom bones all  cold, and blue)
Reaching up to Touch the Sky
(stealing children walking by)
Apple blossom, Maple branch
(Midnight's when they walk and dance)
Oh! Their whisper-windy song!
(Snag you as you walk along)
Tender saplings stretching wide
(Swallow you down Deep inside)
Climb them, build a home-up-high
(Children missing, my-oh-my)
Touching God with tender leaves
(Hell-deep roots down low beneath)
Guardians of Earth and Time
(Come on up.  Enjoy the climb...)
Ash and Elm and Pine and Oak
(Quiet sneaky Forest Folk)
Mom, and Dad, I'm off to play
To climb a Tree I met today.
It's so big and tall and round
(Mom and Dad won;t hear a sound)
For my Daughter, who fell from a Willow once, but never stopped believing...
Timothy Mooney Jun 2011
Do not go there
Daughter Dear.
He is rough and
Smells of beer.
And I would not
Want you seen
On his loud
Two-wheeled machine.
He is not your
Type at all,
He's too handsome,
Strong and tall..
What would all the
Neighbors say
When they see you
Ride away
With your skirt all
Cinched-up high
With that Dark and
Handsome guy?
What? You say he
Has a job?
Educated?
Not a slob?
Well, I guess then,
Just one date.
I'll wait up though,
Don't be late.
Timothy Mooney Jun 2011
I thought I heard you
Last Night
In the wind
Outside
An engine
In the Distance
Slicks-on-wet blacktop
No radio on
Just the engine
Just the Rubber
On the road
In the wind
Racing
Against the Night
Or with It
Speed-Love-Crazy
One hand
Wheel-tight
And one
Waving
As
You
Flew.
Timothy Mooney Jun 2011
It is not so much
That you have
Let go of me
As it is
The
Fear
Of
Being
Caught
By Someone
Else.

After all
It's
Not the
Fall
But the
Landing
Can
**** you.
Timothy Mooney Jun 2011
No poem.
No song.
Just the title.
That should be enough.
Six words.
Two more Than your last four-
"I love you, goodbye."
I can't even find
Rhyme
Nor reason
Why.
Oh well.
So long.
No poem.
No song.
Timothy Mooney Jun 2011
My favorite song
On vinyl
Side B
Third track in
It was spinning
About to play
For me
Its sweet
Melody
And
OH!  NO!!
The Cat!
The Cat!
Timothy Mooney Jun 2011
Eventually
Everything
Will be said
And written
In every language
By everyone
In every possible
Combination
Of beat
And meter
And ...  
...pause.
Eventually.
Then
What will
Poets do?
(And then
God whispered
In my ear
And Said
"Silly...
They will
Invent
New
Words".
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