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allanbrunmier Jul 2019
The *****
The Squirm
The Worm
allanbrunmier Jul 2019
The Womb
The Loom
The Tomb
allanbrunmier Jul 2019
Seeing life’s colors flutter afar
Trapping beauty in labeled jar
allanbrunmier Jul 2019
Where do you hie, Dragonfly
In this clear blue sky?
Whom do you espy
With your multitudinous eye?

Who’s your prey today
Amidst the woodland spray?
In your watery youth, it was larvae,
Now the whole forest's your breakfast tray.

But are there dragonflies among us,
That you chance meet on street or bus?
Who are never heard to cuss
Or even raise a fuss.

Beware his iridescent charm.
He means to do you harm.
When he extends his slender arm,
There's much cause for alarm

There’s tell-tale signs for his breed,
Oft rumors of treacherous deed.
But he'll remain aloft to mislead,
Then swoop with blinding speed.

Proceed with care.
Beware his debonair,
For in the sunfilled glare,
You may have no prayer!
allanbrunmier Jul 2019
I suddenly realize I’m but a shadow
All my sun-filled days are behind me
My world is a world of shadows
It’s now only me not we

Hard to nest when so many trees have died
My forest is thinning
I’m on the wing but can’t stay aflight
Too long a journey from my beginning

I still look for others but to no avail
They are all on the other side of me
A veil separates our worlds
Often yearn for an eternal sea

My memories are fading
Just snatches of recall
Harder to feel past emotions
Yesterdays behind a wall

Is there any reason to slog on
To search for destinations
No longer seek a voice to hear
Let alone have conversations

Let the shadows consume me
Let me enter the dimming light
My days are drawing near
It’s time for the dreamless night
allanbrunmier Jul 2019
The Painter tires of his daffodil
The Writer’s embarrassed for his timid quill
They yearn for a primeval thrill

They want to be the lion on prowl
To utter a guttural growl
To hear calf’s final howl

They yearn for deadly hunt
To chase the prey in front
Not just perform fictional stunt

Nor go to a zoo and gawk
But stalk like a fearsome hawk
And deliver the final shock

Art’s oft served on a nobler plane
But below this surface lies insane
There’s a wanton lust in pain

Thank god, civilization holds us in check
Many would risk their neck
Their lives would be a total wreck
allanbrunmier Jul 2019
After birth we’re pure emotion.
Before words are learned,
We’re like an ocean,
Before islands are turned.

Words punctuate our feelings.
They disrupt the current.
They stem innate healings,
Cut short a potential deterrent.

Perhaps it’s best to let loose our rages
Fill our souls with unnamed delights
Try not put them to pages
In bookage minds that demand insights.

Does language enhance our senses,
Or merely subdue instinctual forces?
Do we no longer see natural fences
That block various courses?

Can I actually sing my song
When its’ lyrics are faulty words?
Does it really matter to define right from wrong?
Can I ever fly as free as birds?

Does language separate me from exhilaration?
Does it besot purity of desire?
Does it promote exasperation?
Does it extinguish internal fire?

Alas, it doesn’t matter.
A brain once programmed demands an answer.
It can’t accept a sensual scatter.
It’s a kind of intellectual cancer.
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