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I only dream of reaching you,
Here grounded on this patch of Earth.
Yet all the same, I'm richly blessed
To see your beams of silver-blue,
And sights of all the landscape dressed
In brilliance that gives Night its worth.
What are the dark hours without you?
June '24
If you have to lie, then deep inside,
You already know the truth you hide.
The words you twist, the stories bend,
Can never heal, can never mend.

A shadow creeps with every tale,
A weight that grows with every veil.
The truth, once bright, is lost in gray,
Each step you take leads you away.

You know you’re wrong with every breath,
Each word you speak, a quiet death.
If truth is gone, then so are we-
A bond can’t live on false debris.

If you must lie to make it through,
Then face the truth: it’s not worth you.
I think most often we lie to ourselves the most.
 Mar 19 Chuck Kean
JL Vega
We met
We talked
We pretended
We laughed
We considered
We agreed
We exchanged
We left
It was like a kiss from a rose
They say time heal all wounds
And though that may be true
For the majority of scenarios
It’s not an irrefutable fact

For our childhood scratches
May be a fleeting kind of pain
Yet there are some scars that life
Engraves deep within our soul

Like a bullet whose trajectory
Missed my heart by a few inches
But hit a far more damaging target
My very last bit of innocence

Now, when I look into the mirror
Every broken bone lost its meaning
And the echoes of who I once was
Are all that remains to be seen
This is a poem my friend Mariya wanted to have written, but couldn't do it 'cause she's too busy saving the world.
Edit. Mariya was KIA in 04/04/25. She was a true hero and will never be forgotten.
When a black sheet has been
thrown over the moon
and a million lazy stars
have fallen from view
I hear the wind has
grown tired of traveling
I hear the sound of mandolins
crying in the mountains
I hear the rattle of
gypsy wheels
I hear the heavy hearts
of horses upon the
restless roads of
broken poetry ...
Clay.M
We all become
stories
at the end
of the day

The true
and the false
the black
and the grey

The plot lines
will vary
the ends
in due course

As history
remembers
with joy
— and remorse

(Dreamsleep: February, 2025)
as the bullet pierces through
the love for you spills out too
thoughts unsaid
prays unheard
what drips from my writ once was love.
I am so happy to announce the publication of my new book, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse, available on Amazon.  I also read my poetry on my youtube channel.
Thanks to everyone for this great site.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DY4XDQYC
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