I’ll be there when you call
I’ll be there if you fall
In you I’ve found my future
I’ll be there
I’ll be there

I will watch while you sleep
I will hold you when you weep
My eternal love won't fail you
I'll be there
I'll be there
ljm

Writhing sea of dancing faces
Roiled by electric currents
From a storm that I can’t see-
No high, no low, no ebbing
Just tumaltism from
One Sean cut to another.
In the middle is a wooden box
Painted big and black and square.
On it is a Nereid
Arms out flung, long red hair flying
Turning in the basting of the spotlights
So willow-thin above the starfish in the tide pools.
Powered by the lack of sun
She floats her rhythms
On the breakers
And becomes a beacon
For lost eyes and hopeless dreams.

How I wish I was her sister
Cousin or best friend.
How I’d love to fusion with her
Show her where she got her licks.
But I hold back- I don’t dare it
My time was yesterday
Today is hers alone
I must be jetsam on the shore
So sad that my tide’s moving out as
Hers is rolling in.

If I could only be her peer
Instead of Sea Waif’s mother.
ljm

tiny things become intimate

you may put them in cases, or hang on pins

straight or safety, it becomes political

the choice is yours

bulldog clips

He wondered being creative
What moment of his life
He could put on the page
Possibly turn it into a scene
It loops in the back of his mind
His wild imagination off the charts
Trying to keep it simple
Not aware of his audience
Older use to being alone
Appreciating the art of story telling
Straight to the point is easy
Too much detail could be wordy
Over thinking tone possibilities

No, the sun radiates
this moon bathed in light
down to despair’s depths
life survives in city’s rubble
myriad hands digging hope
hearing cries for one more day
powdered wigs, faces, clothes
dry weeping in shadows
separated by earth’s broken back
sculpting a landscape of destruction
with miles of piled masonry
under a magnifying lens of tears
hearts and minds, bulwark
against each darkness found
a swarm of humanity tunnels
saving one more precious being
gently carried into distressed search lights
and the arms of a caring world

-cec

He came up to me this guy and introduced
  himself
"Hello", he said, "I'm You"
I looked at him uncomprehendingly, even a
  little afraid
I thought 'How can you be me, I'm me... not
  you'
It's like he'd come to take me over
He was after my pronouns
He wanted to own me
It was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers
Or the Angel of Death, the Grim Reaper come
  to get me
I was about to take off running down the
  road
I thought "You can't take me, I... I'm already
  taken
Then I thought 'If you're me then who am I,
  I'm what then....
Maybe that was it, maybe I was a What now
And he... he was a What-not or a not-What
"You! You're You", I said back to him a little
   doubtfully
"You", he said again this time with emphasis,
  "You O'Brien"
I looked at him closely "You, you're You O'Brien" I said slowly confirming what he'd
  just said/told me
Then it hit me You!... Hugh the Borg from Star Trek (the Next Generation LoL), that episode the Borg collective Guy becomes an individual
"You're Hugh" I said greatly relieved, you're
   Hugh, Hugh with a H
It was like I'd been released 'So you're not
  me after all'.

When he'd gone though I thought, maybe if he had of being me he might have made a better job of being me than I did.