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 Dec 2012 Tyler G
The storm will keep me
in good company instead
also more coffee
I saw a man in passing
but he was already gone
he flew from far
struck by a car
deceased just past our lawn.
I am saddened still, few days have past
none of us know which breath we breathe last.
Staring aloof, perfect and warm,
the only proof from the loudest thud
was under his head; the pool of blood.
I prayed three times before I rose
I never wanted to see
a human dying or suffering
but i must see if he needs me.
onlookers gawking, chatting about
but only myself and a man by his side
i pumped his heart and breathed his breath
but it was too late
He was lost to Death.
God Bless You and keep you Aristeo
Rest in Peace
 Dec 2012 Tyler G
 Dec 2012 Tyler G
Wake up.
Slowly move from the position of dreams to reality.

Facing the tangible
takes strength
leave the uspeakable beauty
that need no words

Open your mouth to counter
the sounds of the world

Five years hast vast seas chartered.
From beginning and on.
This sea long voyage,
Commencing at every dawn.

The rocky bay claimed its lives
In the first forty moons.
Navigation without a map, into
Thy yonder blue
But lessons will be attested to
So there it would be found.
By how much it grew.

On thine forty-first moon
A turtle embarked upon
This voyage forever long.
Yet by the forty-eighth
It was sought out for gone.

Then on the fifty-sixth
That trodden on vessel
Found a love rift
A night in heaven deemed untrue.
Leaving a precious memorial gift.

Thus leaving my chosen isle
From the altogether sea
A search was sought out
To follow flight of a dove
Clearer than a breaking wave may be
Then floating in innocence
The pearl dove dost found
No longer pure yet in a pool
Of blood in which shot down
Tears nought wiping unshiftable wreckage
A broken body engine finds its way,

Another isle I hath come upon,
But the terra dost not captivate me.
Yet the reef around it encircling,
I think of what it could be
It strikes my thoughtful mind
To realize...
Such a color I hath ne'er seen,
Except in her eyes.
Written September 15, 2003 @ 10:06 PM CDT
 Dec 2012 Tyler G
I remember losing something,
but I don't have a clue anymore and I'm not
afraid anymore
because I've had a little too much to drink
and I'm sleeping in my car

I've got to return all these toys to the kids today,
rid myself of these accumulative ways
that have gotten in the way
of my body that can't escape from the
ties that I've
tethered to my toes

I remember finding a place while
looking for a friend;
the impending sun was looking for us, too
but instead of my friend a stranger emerged
and followed me back to where I came from

back to the bar that we've spent so many nights
of not remembering all the laughs
and the fights; we eat like kings,
and we sing,
and we're not afraid anymore

I wander in this old bar, like I've never
seen it before
and there's a doorway I'm sure
was never there before so I reach for the handle
and open swings the door
and the most beautiful light:
I've never seen a one shine quite as bright.

she's bathing, free as the stars themselves,
so I uncover my self
and I sit in the water with her but we don't talk,
we just smile,
and we don't kiss,
but she touches my arm and we're in love

expecting eyes peer from windows
and a slit in the door
we've decided to leave open
because there's nothing more beautiful
than being here, every laugh line,
every scar exposed

there's nothing more beautiful than
bathing in love
where every laugh line and scar is exposed

I forgot about remembering that
I've lost something,
the delivery man is here to return it
but I can't find him, either
so I dance a little bit, I sit outside
and hope he never finds me.
 Dec 2012 Tyler G
Edward Coles
 Dec 2012 Tyler G
Edward Coles
Home is a funny word.

Home is the napkin
That you use to wipe the salt from your hands.
It is found on dime-a-dozen
Christmas cards and TV meals.

It is paraded by the letting agents;
Founded by stay-at-home adults,
Who will do anything,
To break the monotonous tug of home.

Home is where you mind your manners
And comb your hair.
You plaster your flesh and bone
With a bracing tolerance
To hold fast against the moronic company,
All with no nicotine in the bloodstream.

Home is the shrapnel of memory
That has been so scattered in your mind,
And home is the filing system
That finally puts order to it all.

It is a mug of tea
Poured in your favourite mug
But not to your favourite taste.

Home can be the well-adjusted face
To the most maladjusted of bodies.
The gritted teeth,
The clamour of attention,
The lack of comprehension,
‘You don’t understand’
No you, you need to understand.

This might not be home anymore.
Until I am gone.
 Dec 2012 Tyler G
Kim Jong Il
I put my cigarette out on my thick dead skin
I feel no pain, I see no sin
I bleed with ink and ash falls
Off my foggy head.

During the autopsy
Kind pathologist  will find the ashtray
In the web of darkened   arteries
Some other gray day

During my days of eternal physical struggle
The roads of dirt made my feet bleed tears
I’ll go to sleep once I wrap myself with fears
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