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In the Still of the Night
On the Top of the hill
As we Lie looking at the Sky
Awaiting a Comet to Pass By
My Mother told me a Tale

Back when Magic Waned
And the Machine age began
With sorrow for its passing
The last of the Elves set off for afar
Left for the sky, on the Elven Star

Machines had robbed the Minerals
And smoke destroyed the Herbs
And Poisons had ruined the Water
Precious Elements from Sacred Fire
No Longer Helped them heal the Earth

The night they left the legend says...
A Bright comet passed, By in the Sky
The Elven Ships Journey  on a Magic Tail
Leaving behind a Golden Age Now Pale
The Elven ship returns at 75 years to pass By

And this is our Only chance to see Elves in the Sky...JMF 3/10/2015
Only if you Believe
Weary of my days,
Weary of my unspoken ways,
The tricks and games
the mind will play.

Feeling weary of the rains,
The trials and tribulations of being a slave,
Weary of the looks when I speak,
Weary of the battles,
Weary of the crooks,
Weary of the screams,
Weary of those being so mean.

Fault or blame
it doesn't matter,
Weary of the meaningless chatter,
Small talk on a foggy day.

Weary of this life sometimes
in every way.

The darkness will come soon enough,
Weary of these darkest thoughts.

Lay me down
in a cozy comforter,
Morphine to make me numb,
the weariness
just lasts a moment,
Savor it
then it's gone
and
done.
Poetry is fiction and truth, a glimpse amidst the human condition.
It is always in the silence of pre-dawn that our hearts cry loudest.
31015
Senryu
Taken directly from a comment I made on a poem.
Fear
Judged by irrationality
Hidden in accidental oversights
Feeding the dragon that leaks molten lava in salty streaks of regret
Fear
Empty wasted emotion
Saving ourselves from ourselves
Saving you from me
Worst case scenarios never included you punishing me at the sight of my weakness
Fear
You only love me beautiful
Love is a profound type of collective psychosis
Looks like strength but hides the truth
The truth that certainty is the truest delusion
Fear
On my best day, in the best possible scenario, I am still invisible
Open and still transparent
Full and still forgotten
Insightful and irrelevant my thoughts pour out unheard
Fear
In my demon's shadows lives the truth of my vulnerability
I am weak because I love you
I am a warrior because you love me
I am strong because I love you
I am a lamb because you love me
Fear
Spilling my unseen secrets
My evil self-talk, my mantra of honest lies
The purr of a kitten unsettles a soul beginning to believe it mattered
Pain dismissed in the peaceful snores of a tired moon
Fear
The sun shines in hope on the remnants of dream
On the nightmare of forgotten, overlooked, inconsequential truth
Empty apologies and the familiarity of beloved anguish
Herald the realization, that words don't matter
Truth or lies, faithless faithful, and a newfound silence
Fear
Invisible save for the ash lines that tell the tale
Of how I begged forgiveness for sharing my tormented and twisted mind
Only to be interrupted by the sounds of your peaceful slumber
Fear**
To be everything to your everything
and realize I am still........nothing at all
31115
To Him, poetic license, I know I am your sun.  I know who you are. But sometimes..."because we love, we hurt."
You are not my children,
tender as you are.
You are not my lover,
though you cause my heart to yearn.
You are not my sun,
or my moon,
or my star.

I set you on this rock;
you will not make me burn.

You are simply sticks,
arranged upon the pyre.
You are clever tricks,
though you flaunt my clear desire.
You are not the match,
or the wick,
or the fire.

I set you on this rock;
To see what might transpire.

You will never be a pheasant's egg to be coddled.
You are only this: a calf led to the slaughter.
A poem addressed to my poems, in the midst of the dreaded poetry workshop, where my lovelies are torn to shreds.  An attempt to maintain distance, for the sake of learning.  It's hard.
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