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Silently waiting near the halls of years that have passed
Is the beginning of lost and confused
Calling farewell to yesterday’s river of tears
That ran deeper than a mystery
Left unproved

A promise does its best to save the life of a memory
What more noble an expression exists
When there is barely a beginning before the end
Of another day that is born to smile
And dismiss

The tick of a clock changes so much in these halls
Brings the beginning of enlightenment
Bidding farewell to the end of lost and confused
As the memory of the life of a promise
Is infused
Copyright *Neva Flores @2011
www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
in the dark all alone
fingers weak trembling
to light a flame
so he can smoke
lips on paper
fire in his face
he inhales once more
drawing the fire closer
paper disappearing
muscles relaxing
the plant spreads
through his body
in his lungs
hardened from cigarettes
through his blood it creeps
quietly rapidly
with out a peep
the room hazy
distorted
he is relaxed
until the drug wears off
roll lick light
another cycle
repeated twice more
a sound breaks the silence
the door opens
in the gap a silohuette
short
daddy
it cries
the smoker turns away
as the door closes

the next day
with pockets empty he weeps
a child on his leg
no more
no more
a different life he needs
a person he wants
girlfriends, pets, kids
his wife
have all left

in his house alone
fingers weak trembling
to press the trigger
and an angel speaks
No
No
it cant be
what could god want with me
a loner an addict
a failure

his mother speaks
floating above him
no my son
you can be good
try
let it escape
and he tries and fails
repeating what he did before
gun in hand he cries
with his heart
his mind
his soul
his mothers face
the last thing he sees
despaired, she turns away
biting his tongue
fire in his face
he inhales the lead
and an angel cries
its long but please read it and tell me what you think
For when the words pile out
Away from the white Stork feathers
Often seemed to be gentle breeze
On Kans grasses
Superficial white clouds
Small dinghies on the river
To navigate the life

Far away on the bridge
The Silent movement of the Brahminy kite
Southern breeze blew
Tilting the tall grasses toward the North
Leak of the light fell into the Kans,
Into the Soft green grasses

Sunlit mingled with light fog
Seek heavenly feeling
Without the knowledge
The lips Stir of

Walking beside the river
Barefooted
In the air Kestrel's mystic music
The river running with full of chime

What are the forms of you!
Thee bind me with deception!
What a Strange tune!
What those thirsty words!

So that I draw your image
Moving away from the shadows
Soft light blended with the estuary
Away,
Little by little,
To see your face
Like the rig of Ship

Behind the path
A magical dream
Seems like a White Shirt  
That I had left in the Kans grasses
 Mar 2015 Tyler Lynn Pulliam
Jim
I’ve done ill; I’ve done bad
B̶u̶t̶ ̶I̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶g̶r̶e̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶
B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶
So I had to say sorry
A̶n̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶d̶a̶m̶n̶ ̶s̶i̶c̶k̶
Because it’s the right thing to do
E̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶’̶m̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶
A̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶
T̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶p̶p̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶
And I’m guilty for committing
An unwritten crime; so, “I’m sorry”
M̶a̶y̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶o̶l̶e̶m̶n̶l̶y̶ ̶g̶o̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶
I’m glad you have forgiven me
I̶’̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶g̶l̶a̶d̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶n̶’̶t̶
For now, my heart is light;
no burden to carry.
T̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶ ̶b̶u̶r̶d̶e̶n̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶,̶ ̶a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶.̶
I̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶g̶r̶e̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶.̶ ̶
B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶;̶ ̶
M̶a̶y̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶g̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶.̶
THANK YOU!!!
D̶i̶e̶!̶ ̶S̶l̶u̶t̶!̶ ̶D̶i̶e̶!̶
For giving me a chance.
D̶i̶e̶ ̶s̶l̶o̶w̶l̶y̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶p̶a̶i̶n̶f̶u̶l̶l̶y̶!̶ ̶
I̶ ̶a̶m̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ ̶
A̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶
A̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶
And being your friend again.
This poem is about someone who accepts reconciliation towards an enemy. The words in strikethrough are his real thoughts.
.
        A dandelion-yellow chick
        Lately has lost her smooth white cap
        With edges chipped out tap by tap
And peck by peck and tick by tick.

        She moves with careful steps between
        Her mother's not-too-careful strides,
        And with a careless foot collides,
And falls (kerplunk!) sans any teen.

        Today as small as a mother wren,
        She'll soon outsize a mother dove,
        Then shortly after will she prove        
A natural mother—a mother hen.
        
^ ^
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