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Maybe just

the obsessions, obsessions, confessions
                 Of an aging man
                         In exile ...


                    Goldengreen
                 Things Not Seen
You've seen her
Headphones in
With music up
or in conversation with
ten people at once
She can't stand the silence.
The sound of her beating
Broken heart
is so maddening.
As soon as the lights all die
As soon as the music stops
As soon as the people leave
her heart breaks once more
under the crushing, knee snapping
weight of the silence.
The hand that penned those words was mine,
but the soul behind them
the crimson flame and silver tongue that spoke them
isn't me anymore.

I'm not her;
Hell I'm barely me.
I remember her
in the way one remembers a long lost friend.
Distantly  and with fond thoughts.
Those words are no longer my words
for I am not that soul.
I am a shell of who I was.
A broken, tired, warrior fought too long.
I've lost her hope her happiness.
I've watched  her dreams die.
I've given up everything she wanted.
I've changed

I don't know who I'll become  or where I'm going
but I'm not her anymore.
At least I'm writing again
even though it's sloppier
than kindergarten scribbles.

At least I'm writing again
even if it's darker
than a moonless January night.

At least I'm writing again
even if it's not
easing any pain.
 Apr 2020 Traci Sims
Mary-Eliz
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
This is a favorite poem by one of my most favorite poets!
The internetið is made á English
Hví can't ég write in mínu language
Engin will understand ljóðin mine
If ég skrifa in foreign tungumál
 Apr 2020 Traci Sims
Dr Peter Lim
No, not the least
I will not be cavalier
retreat is not cowardice
I am absolutely clear-

wise Chinese saying I remember:
there's a good lesson in fear
when you know there are tigers
in the forest--why should you go near?
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