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If I could invert the world to -
walk the boulevard of stars
Touring streets of crystal
Avenues of pure light
Lasers exploding into rainbows
Ancestral orbs pirouetting against -
the astral night
O , to be held in the gravity of -
love ...
Copyright July 15 , 2019 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 1d Caroline
I remember the sun kissing our
neon zinc-ed faces, heating tiny cubes
of red track until the rubber,
warm to the touch, clung to resting
palms and thighs.

I remember the smell of watermelon,
hot dogs and gatorade mingling with
the acrid smoke of the starter’s pistol
and the feral horde of butterflies
fighting in my stomach each time
the gun would blast.

I remember ghosts of friends from
back then sharing laughs as
we warmed up, muscles strong,
nerves tight, bravado bared to all.

I remember his folding chair,
right there at the end of every race,  
rain or shine, he showed up, coaxing
tired bones out of his favourite
recliner and into his giant, blue
oldsmobile, the interior littered
with cigarette holes and
werthers candies; he showed up
with pride, without fail.

I remember overhearing the boys
talk about the old man smoking
by the finish line, how gross it was
and why was he even there anyway,
and I remember shame taking root
and spreading: I knew the old man
was there for me.

I remember the day I stopped running
through the ribbon, straight to that
striped chair, to that time bowed man,
with his precisely combed white hair,
wearing ironed jeans, wrinkles
and a smile that could charm anyone.

I remember his funeral, not long after,
sitting in a room stained with
dust, tears and time arrested;
shame and sadness lodged heavy in
my throat as I wished for just one
more chance to say I love you.
I went to my first poetry workshop today. This came out of nowhere; I didn't even realize the baggage I've been hauling around for years.
almost had my way without
cracking, spread eagle
in universal position,
cast low in the turned fields

a thousand swans
slowing the sun
retracing collision
braided wings
fluttery on currents
of plummeting altitude
 1d Caroline
What is it about the moon
That I miss so much
Hiding in the corners
Of the sky
Peeking between
the shrubbery of the clouds
It's no use, bright thing
I still see you
 1d Caroline
A storm swept through
with wind enough to tear the trees out
by their roots
whip the rain in sideways
streaks of darkness –



Sirens and the engines roar
to underscore by thunder
some emergency

The wailing
dives and sinks and sets by decibels
in the miles of impossible...

In those jewels
of distance from you
have I been set?
In gold
of eventide?
A masterpiece of sorrow

Am I
to live another day without you?
A storm rolled through about an hour ago while I was watching  a You Tube  program about the jewels and royalty of India.
Dust up your nose, dreaming of a hose, just some ******* water
Trained for the slaughter, sons against sons, daughter against daughter
Finding reasons to not alter the course of things
We lose so much, it bites and stings its way into our lives
Natural change and decay, fundamental loss
Like pulling a tooth out with the floss,  accidental bleeding
Copper in your mouth and the rain is pouring, sleeting
We're retreating into soft beds and light sheets
The stink of a day on your heart, liquid jumpstart caffeine cyanide
Cut it open wide, take the wild ride roll ruthless
At the kissing booth with Boothe blasting blackcaps
Fat stacks of ore, consumed from children's core
We **** our whole planet but still will ask for more
Open the door, look upstream, things glide and then gleam
Photons in motion causing compounded confusion
The funniest thing is it's all illusion, gap tooth grasping at glimpses
Stencil my body on concrete blocks, dry, and rearrange to your preference
I’m struggling to compose myself
To remain seated
To keep my thoughts in check
I’m losing the battle
The war is only starting
How precious life is
How pointless these wicked thoughts are
I’m on the edge
I’m on the verge of painting these walls with beautiful red
God keep me sane before I hang myself in displace for everyone to see
How far gone i am
How far I’ve gone
Dually split

Anxiety pumping through her soul
Stomach is sick
Clouded focus
Like a fog

The more she recalls
She quickly forgets
Her emotions run wild
Like a butterfly child
Never slowing down
They just can't quit

She struggles daily
Like fifty fifty split

Methodically speaking
Shes a fallen angel
Her halo splits
Wings are filthy
Stardust turned to dirt
Demons take over
They reside within
Born that way
Partners for life

She calls upon ANGELS
They save her from sin

She is both darkness
And love
they fit together
Like a custom made glove

Beautifully Broken 2019
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