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 Nov 2018 Jesse stillwater
BMG
Life never stopped,
No matter what happened.
Life never stopped moving forward.
It didn’t care that I missed you.
It didn’t matter
That “my plans” were ruined
So I moved on.
I fought,
When all I thought I was capable of
Was falling to pieces.
I fought.
Life kicks you when you’re down
You kick back
I lost some days
I lost some weeks
but I never once gave up.
Life doesn’t stop.
So neither did I.
It never allowed me to stop,
I never thought I would get here
But I’m thankful
For both the grief and the grace.
The road was all mud
she slipped with the drizzle
and you couldn't tell
the color she wore
but her big awed eyes
colored the land in all colors
making her lose breath
gazing at every little thing
till over the noise of lightning
boomed her father's voice
be fast girl before the rain is harder
when she would run for his hand
and slip again and again
counting fun at every fall
her eyes a glowing island
from the mud scarred face.

Once in the market
the man gave her a good wash
little knowing she was drenched
with all the dreams
eyes could ever see.
The sky in your eyes beautifies your soul
Relax the wings when you scream in the sound of your heart,
and I can hold it in your arms.

In your hair every anxiety is sleeping,
fear is extinguished when I touch and touch
Oh, on my fingers eager to travel
wildly, that calls me to appear.

And if I fall and fall on you,
I will become a storm on the shore,
scattered on the sand spread out
to burn your feet in silence.

I will become a sun, rain to ask you
clouds to drink and hide
the sweet tears that burn your belly
From the hills of life to death.

That, your eyes are a ticket for me
to participate in the places praised,
in the sky my wings spread out
and the only thing I ask, is to return to earth.
H.хренников
there’s a network of vigilance
around the guarded causeway
of walla walla
the stacked cinders
and smoking rails
leave nothing
but black hooded fate

gray halls
and razor scrawls
mark the hellion crust
abandoned overtures
and dead fill
cloud the horror
and retribution
of this hell hole

bloaters and skin heads
(with wretched memoirs)
shout incessantly
from the second floor
adolphus greely
reading over the
rights of nantucket
and banging his head
on the bent steel bars

with pockets pinched
and tumblers dangling
the stone walls soften...
a seminal moment
crosses the roo house
as mother mary
and the good painted warrior
loosen a finely tuned grip
Lately I imagine
I am a tree
Perfect
in my imperfections
Mother Earth
cradle my roots
as I bask in the glory
of the faithful sun
Her rays satiate my leaves
permeating my being
with resounding hopefulness
I surrender.
nurtured
Utterly Loved
as and by nature’s nourishments
I am.
11/22/18
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