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  Apr 25 CarolineSD
M Vogel

She bleeds through the
ends of her fingers, as she cries--
   she dies inside
   as she relives the horrors

   and re-suffers the blows;
   down on to the paper
   it all goes

her shattered-heart knows,
and her tear-stained face shows
that this is how she will reach
those, all alone;  

so, with trauma-scarred hands-
and blood-stained-red bones, creates
the much needed seed to be sown
  

   and down on to the paper
   it all goes


she is bleeding out, all alone
but her face  has a glow
xo
The sky puts on the darkening blue coat
held for it by a row of ancient trees;
you watch: and the lands grow distant in your sight,
one journeying to heaven, one that falls;

and leave you, not at home in either one,
not quite so still and dark as the darkened houses,
not calling to eternity with the passion of what becomes
a star each night, and rises;

and leave you (inexpressibly to unravel)
your life, with its immensity and fear,
so that, now bounded, now immeasurable,
it is alternately stone in you and star.
  Apr 12 CarolineSD
M Vogel

This place. I don't know.
so many people / want to block..
  their words--
they climb all over me.
one's in particular:

Heart-expressed words bringing down
the healing light of relationship to the parts of me
who up until now
have known little or no relationship of its kind;

      and there is conflict within me  as I fight it..
    years the locusts have eaten; and the opportunity of restoration;
      often squandered. in vanity.

none of that mattered much;
                                 until now--

When the unredeemed heart-parts of myself
reveal to me their dormancy:    left detached
from community  with one another--
  an internal community   necessary
  to withstand  the brilliant light    and glory
  brought down by those here who write as she does.

          but she;

    through her unfiltered heart-writes
    brings down the very magic and beauty and fullness of the
    relational dance of the godhead.

     And it's raw beauty is ****** slayin me.
I so want to block her  for the conflict she creates    in me  
                    .
      but I will  press on

and allow her supremely-smithed words--
(words not even written to me)
to have their beautiful way,

in

and through..
the help that has been all around me;
(each and every one of us)
waiting...  
             all along

   --as  if they were cleaning my soul,
      re-integrating my fragmented, heart-parts.



I'm the innocent bystander..
Somehow,  I got stuck
between a rock and a hard place
And I'm down on my luck
Yes..  I'm down on my luck

--And I'm hiding in Honduras:
I'm a desperate man
Send lawyers guns and money
the **** has hit the fan
https://youtu.be/wT9XlQi0yew?t=57

~The eternally beautiful, Warren Z
  Apr 1 CarolineSD
Little Bear
you are going to have to
sew yourself together

piece by piece

place by place

peace by peace

listen to the wind
before all of your broken pieces
are swept
into the cracks
in the floor boards

like dust and crumbs
blown in
by their open windows

for they do not know why
you are
who you are

look to the moon
before you are whispered of no more
by dawn they will have forgotten
who you were

why you are here

why you are
who you are

before all the tides
that swept into your shores
have broken
on the rocks below

speak in lowered tones
say your name
over and over again
do not forget tomorrow
but forget today
they do not hear your voice

or know why you are
who you are

piece by piece
place by place
peace by peace


place buttons on your skin
and sew yourself together
over and over and over again

piece by piece
place by place
peace by peace

as this is why
you are
who you are
that's all there is. Plasters plasters sticking plasters on gaping big holes that everyone thinks they know how to fix.
  Mar 29 CarolineSD
M Vogel

Never a soul to harm
there is nonetheless-- 
   a harm
to the soul done
so lost and alone

this un fortunate son
this,  the un wanted one

And so deliberately  undone
was his soul's inner windings
that there became  room
no.. a void of a room

for any spirit  to haunt

The garrote-pull  taunt
his flesh--  thin and gaunt
he imploded back into himself--

   this serial-killer at heart..
   destroyer, of one.


the young lad spoke in class today
  Mar 28 CarolineSD
Evan Stephens
I've been drunk for days.
Last year we were to be married -
this year I have a bleeding ulcer
& I cry every morning,
medicated with scotch.
Your name is a meadow.
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