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Traci Sims Jun 17
Be careful, Donnie!
The noose you want for his neck.
Might go around yours.
#Insurrection Day Blues
Traci Sims Jun 17
Paradise sought,
Paradise down an alleyway,
Paradise by a fountain,
Your body is a fountain,
Under the lamplight,
Your body's a fountain.
Paradise down the alleyway,
Paradise against a brick wall,
Paradise in the ivy,
You're covered in ivy,
Under the streetlights,
You're covered in my ivy.
Paradise sought,
Paradise by the water,
Paradise gained,

Paradise denied.
  Jun 9 Traci Sims
Jayne E
Of artists blocks
and charcoal pencils
lines drawn
blackened white
with hearts the stencil
gouache pastels
in dusted hues
whetted thumbs
by moistened lips
colours gently bruised
with fingertips
stroked by brushes
firm tipped certain
outside the frame
of loves drawn curtain
softly washed
in watercolour fade
the painter plays
loves serenade
emboldened strokes
in oils dramatic
his canvas laden

© J.C.
Traci Sims Jun 8
Does but does not
Should but cannot
You threw it away
To gain mediocrity.
Traci Sims Jun 8
Luck led me to his mother,
A goddess who
kept him in a Ziploc bag,
"He's the Special One" she sighed
And reached in to rub his star-spangled head.
Visits on Thursdays,
My boy prince,
My young king,
wintry-eyed with hair
caressing his neck like a black snake,
His mouth thinned
from hours of runic recitation,
his eyes weary with remembering
forbidden knowledge
of an older time.
With my muse
and an old bloodhound
We'll tour the world
in an authentic 60's Volkswagen minivan
we stole from a hippy's backyard.
When night falls
and the fireflies stab the dark with flashing points of light,
We'll conjure archways dripping with roses
Our ******* rapturous
on sleeping bags stashed in the back.
Honey mead will flow as we solve riddles
and listen to the sounds of ol' Terra
creaking on her eternal foundation...
This came from a dream.
Traci Sims Jun 8
It was the Telemann, wasn't it?
The slow honeyed complaint of the violin produced those hot tears on your pale cheek,
While the cello brought forth the deep sweet pain of remembered love,
The recorder sighed with you as golden nights of wonder and romance were recalled, cherished, and banished to the ether once more,
And the harpsichord sparkled sadly as it observed your sobbing drooping form on the couch, its tinkling notes caressing you as it attempted to soothe and bring resolution and peace...
It's not your fault, Georg Phillip,
How could you know that
your shimmering masterwork
Would bring the piercing ache
of lost and unrequited love?

Georg Phillip Telemann was a contemporary of the Baroque period's greatest composer, J.S. Bach.  In his day, Telemann was actually considered to be the greater composer. His works are gorgeous, sensual, witty, and sublime. If you like classical, give him a try🎶🎵!
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