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Rolled the dice, planted the seed
Watered it with the tears of need
Wished on a miracle each day
But in end who's to say?
What will wither and what will stay?

Rolled the dice, stretched my palms
Said my prayers and gave 'em alms
Plucked some flowers on the way, didn't know it was wrong
Sometimes, devilishly sang out of tune to the gods' song
But can the beauty of stolen petals, be replenished by the shrubs I plant on the way?
Who's to say?

Rolled the dice, ran the race
Did some things just to save face
Cried heavy tears and ruined the facade anyway
Probably should've turned the other way
Had the last laugh on quite a few merry nights
Tried to be the one to set things right
Did I do more harm, who's to say?
But I did try to swim across the ocean, I'd say
Did I cross it? Who's to say?
 Jan 2021 rocky makesroom
jordan
still, i stand still

history making
still, i stand still

untold years
thousands deep
still, i stand still

distant peaks
runoff snow
universal life-blood
still, i stand still

river bend
greening life
stampede muddy
valley floor
still, i stand still

hundreds flee
panicked hearts
shrieking predators
swift advance
sun-bleached skulls
but still, i stand still

heap of kin
dead and dying
trail of death
circling omens
battle wounded
facing demons
and still, i stand still

my kind ends
my home gone
tipped balance
lost race
drying tears
last breath drawn
sun is down
still, i lie still
best if you see the Bierstadt painting of the same name
 Jan 2021 rocky makesroom
tantan
How selfish you are for giving me unmended feelings

Your last words in my head no doubt they are ringing

Selfish enough to give me a proper goodbye

Selfish enough to keep me wondering why.
Touching you feels like playing with a candle flame
A pleasurable illusion of danger
To my intense gratification
I cannot stay away
Your iridescence beckons me
Your scent torments me
A mutually decided destruction
Sliced orange shades,
your visage in evening light;
Bright forehead, dotted red,
Chandelier-ring, square-cut
ruby, on either ear; silken
streaks in hair flowing over
cheeks by the wind;
Ripples in the pond at night:
dimpled smile, broken
as in a dented mirror.
Lost from the front, lost
from behind; doubt rising,
like incense, ladder-like
the rib cage in x-ray vision;
Broken pots, moss-filled,
collecting the last rain,
bits of moon in the puddle
skinny-dipping after.
Totem pole, towering
light house, Zeus-thunder
zipping past the sky, my
Babel ego. Zorro moments.
At the center, a fulmination:
spreading front of a quake
ripping space and time apart.
A cubist perspective on love, loss and reconciliation. Cubism considers and presents intense multiple viewpoints of a subject. I have added an interior cut. Abstraction, analogy and symbol are the artist brushes.

Ma Jolie is one of Picasso's celebrated cubist works: you can see it here http://www.pablopicasso.org/ma-jolie.jsp
The Power Of A Whisper

A whisper makes you listen
It can stop you in your tracks
Can gives words different meaning
Create memories that will last

Whispers cause new feelings
They can change a point of view
Will help to stop the anger
When someone's mad at you

A whisper gives true comfort
Allows a calming peace within
If you listen very closely
You'll hear a whisper in the wind

A whisper sometimes can be heard
From way across a room
To feel the power of a whisper
Just whisper I Love You

Whisper

Carl Joseph Roberts
A poem (nm)
Saw a cougar in downtown area
she was hot like coffee spilt in my lap.
****** had to buy new pants.
Took a close look at cougar's throat
swore I saw five o'clock shadow and adam's apple.
******* that was a man and I need a shower
not a cold one
was hot but got turned off real ****** fast.
One thing I do know is I **** at writing poems.
Joing you TRAVERSE CITY, MICHIGAN
Going to the site and read some good ones.
Was there and learned a new word interactionism.
what the hell is that?

— The End —