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She says she wants this
then she does what is different
I say ill make it work
then go back to indifference.

We point the finger in another's face day after day.
All the while, the children learn that what's broken, only stays that way.

We both live lives our parents left us.
They gave us their chains-smiling and saying, "Dance in freedom as so"
"I cant dance with this weight"
"But you will, from your knees you will grow"

The chains made us strong, our wits picked the lock.
They lay on the ground-come with me, lets stand up and walk.

The children keep watching, they learn with their sight.
We keep practicing our preach, while the soap box constructs to new height.

A temptation took root, begging formation...
Leave all thats been made, and begin with whats new.
But that story's been told, and reruns run dry. So I cast off that thought-that ancestral lie.

The game of ifs.
If I didn't have this
If I hadn't done this
But a game of ifs needs its fair play
If you would only do this.
What would life have to say?

The D word stays silent, taking syllable form forbidden.
As I grit my teeth and question why this heart is still hidden.
  May 6 TheSaneSaloon
Jim Davis
How to poet a life away

Toss the trite learned

Skip grammar mostly too

Rhyme or not is all yours

Step to drummer unheard

Believe in life yet untold

Read a thousand times

More than you write

Live, so you will know

What you are talking about

Take wild leaps in mind

Without losing it too far

Write not only about love

Although that’s all there

Really is or really is not

Fall in some love also

More than simply once

With not only your words

But others in thought

Wishing to poet too



©  2017 Jim Davis
They are thieves, and yet they walk in
"No forced entry."  has been the told tale
"Oh, home sweet home." sighs the owner.
A stranger in his home, but his home all the same
He knows every cranny
He'll sit and watch them raid the cupboards,
they leave when full...Broken bottles, Cigarettes strewed

He was made for a 100 miles.
Born for The Chase
Gathering arms, declaring the hunt

All day I run with no end in sight
My gaze has weakened
So again I rise, and lift my head to stare down the horizon
I will run a 100 miles and even more,
Until exhaustion grips my foes, bringing them to the dirt
I tower over what once dominated,
And looking down
I see them...

Clawing at my feet for mercy.
Choking between sobs, they curse me.

Snot bubbles form, laced with dust.
Terror takes its grip.
They beg me, "lets us go, you must!"

Our eyes meet, and silence takes reign.
I stretch out my hand, wink, and say thanks for the pain.
About inner demons.

I think its appropriate to disclaim that I posted this last year for a brief time to only make it private. However, its been changed, so I want to share once more. Its hard letting it go, I wanted to hold onto it until it was "perfect"
  Apr 24 TheSaneSaloon
Pagan Paul
.
At the table of eternal sorrow
sits a fool with a crooked smile,
faking interest in a world obscene
and feigning the mood of yesterwhile.
Couched over bent with quill extended,
he writes his heart with a bitter beat,
floating in the mire of a memory stained,
poised with nib to command the sheet.
Capering words form across the weave
with capricious intent and shadow play,
smoke and mirrors intersect and disperse
whilst his mind carries the story away.




© Pagan Paul (04/03/19)
.
TheSaneSaloon Apr 22
Distracted, caught in a game
Smart phone, fame
This mind is led by its brain
A new life sought, now stake a claim

Gouged out my eyes,
In Jesus name
Cut out my tongue,
The rudder that steered in disdain
Pierced my eardrums,
That cynic's voice was to blame

Blind, deaf, and mute....
and feeling like never before!

So, Ill heat the iron.
Cauterize the fingers,
then the toes,
What stench?
I first melted my nose.
It should only make sense,
When one never stops to smell the rose
All that remains, belongs to prose.
I have this idea that If I lose focus, Ill lose everything. All the while, this body Im bound to is pulled to answer anything that even hints as a means to find relief.
TheSaneSaloon Jan 26
When I hear the knock at my door
Will I hide under cover?

Yet, It doesnt matter, It will kick it in,
So then, how will it find me
Wide eyed, crazed with fear...
begging and muttering "No's!"

No,
when the knock comes
prepared I pray.
Resolute, inviting the inevitable.
"Will you sit? stay and drink, if this is it."
A guest in my home, and one finally, fully welcomed.
We leave together
A ****** grin, a countenance, resolved my resolution, and departation my celebration
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