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Mouth to Mouth, Chest to Chest



~~~
"Heard the song of a poet,
who died in the gutter"
from Bob Dylan's song,
"It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall"
~~~

heard the song of a poet
who died in the gutter,
last verse, last curse,
not a shout, more a mutter,
a question answered in the asking,
mix tape tune of mournful and joy,
a dying man's elixir.

who will me,
anyone recall?

I will.

not each poem, nor stanza,
but more
each hard rooted, weeded
and impossible to remove letter,
will come to be in,
carried and burnt upon my chest,
chiseled, precision hand tooled.

though my body to dusty ash
fated inevitable,
following yours,
those letters of yours,
will not to heaven ascend,
but come to miracle rest
on the skin of another, renewed

for this the way poetry gets
passed on,
a sustainable, renewal
natural resource,

never down,
always, always,
upward

ear to ear,
mouth to mouth,
from chest to chest


~~~

July 10, 2015
 Jul 2015 Toothless Nono
wolfram
You gave me poisoned butterflies
So I had to mercy-**** them.
I knew, what I believed were lies
yes, I blinded my own eyes.

For when all their wings I had torn
I knew they were poisoned
For they came back and were born
from my own flesh and bone.

It was that kind of torture
when you took away my life.
It is that kind of torture
realizing you are my life.

when you had enough---
**** I keep forgetting
that I was not enough
I am not enough.

But then I still loved you
even with blood on my hands.
And I still love you
with my blood on your hands.
 Jul 2015 Toothless Nono
Carolina
I drop the hints
I yell for help 
I scream your name 
but you don't see. 
I need you now
I need all of you 
you can't hear me cry. 
Why do you miss everything 
why can't you hear me 
why aren't you here
when I only need you the most?
There is a city inside my body
With cars making their way through my veins
People are on rush like they’re insane

My organs make up the industries
And the people are the workers
They work twenty-four/seven, tirelessly

Waiting for the food
Which they make into goods
And supply to all the smaller towns

But in my body,
The day never comes
So they’re accustomed to night-time

And all the routes and all the buildings,
And all the cars with their honking
Even lampposts and payphones

All the houses’ windows
Maybe even TVs and radios
Together, they make their own city lights
 Jun 2015 Toothless Nono
Havran
because look at them
gallivanting about
the avenues
and boulevards of your skin
as if you are not
the very accumulation of stardust
after countless supernovas
marked the end of old stars
making way for new ones,
as if your eyes
held not a single secret of the universe
even when it's so painfully obvious
with
just
one
glance
that that is not the case.

Here's to them
when they tell You
or make you feel
as if you're not worth a single coin.

*Because you're worth more
than all the treasure in the world.
The verbiose virtuoso of verse
clutters the page with poetic pap,
penning endless meandering murk
that amounts to a pile of crap.
Restrain my impulse to post everything I write
 Jun 2015 Toothless Nono
Chris


Cinnamon wishes
and good morning kisses
the coffee is put on to brew

Sunlight is shining
a new day designing
the lawn glistens covered in dew

Songbirds are singing
their melodies bringing
sweet harmonies floating so true

My smile now beaming
a perfect day gleaming
*I can't wait to start it with you
Good morning beautiful
 Jun 2015 Toothless Nono
coyote
song
 Jun 2015 Toothless Nono
coyote
i want to
tuck songs
behind your
ear like loose
hair because
it's the only
way i can
tell you
how i
feel.
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