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My ancient Lancelot.
*Love is patient love is kind,
it kept no record
of wrong doing piling high."
Reminiscing my first poet, sigh;
sweet cane dust sprinkled
on a table's body inch by inch.
Tracings followed little food
reduced to crumbs
Saving hunger and thirst
for the last dance, Knight sought.
True lovers lost and found.
Come lovers unrequited long
find a new dancing floor
dance till the end of love.
I've saved the last dance
for an ancient true Knight
sought long and by and by.
A lifetime I've traveled hard
fed by my lover's light in eye.
It's time, see me renewed
in my new Hindu Knight's light
and sigh.
~~~~~~
By Karijinbba
for so long I traveled in the ghost
of my knight's love in eye.
(Rddpc-Rk/ RddBba.)
I stand alone young in heart
for a dance on a final castle floor.
-

i spread sugar across the kitchen table
and use my index finger to start from
deep scratch, penetrating it's layer to
the smooth wooden surface below

writing characters into gritty detail
within it's fine grainy media, i finish
each line without any practical means
to re-work the structure

they are my sweet licks by finger tips,
rows of tasty words that lay bare upon
a temporary tablet— in a raw form
which will soon be swept into a dust pan

just a musing on a mess at a place
meant for dining, i remove my
thoughts with a hand held brush—

yet traces of its ghost now linger
in a fragile film awaiting your
consumption...


s jones
2008-2021


.
-


i cast only shadows
of twilight,

but like a ghost, i can
spoon deceptively well~

following just a fingernail away,
i can scrape the periphery of your
senses at any given moment

yet i remain outside a passing glance,
just beyond the visual reach of mirrors

for i am the corpse you sleep with nightly,
evidenced by those occasional scratch marks
i leave on your shoulders, neck, buttocks

the thing you've spent most of your lifespan
dismissing as some graveside mourner you
simply turned your eyes away from

yet as a faucet of sand left dripping,
you pool into the spaces between
the plankings of oblivion

Someday,

you will wake to a rope-snap
suspension upon the gallows
of my choosing

as you pour out the last
grain from the hourglass
of your lifespan

your fingertips slipping
down its smoothed
surfaces

knowing — 

as i watch you
fall away

from far,
far
         above...



s jones
May 2021


.
a re-assembly from
something i wrote
in 2009
An Angel from
Heaven above
She's the one
I'll always love and
The angels gasp in awe
When she smiles so bright
She makes the stars shine
Every night and hoping
She'll stop for a while  with
Her beautiful smile
A beautiful Angel in life and
I love you with all of my heart
So take my hands and lets
Never be apart.
Well I was born a self existing
Yellow Star on April 16 AM
a portal to heaven a seed star,
more then half a century ago.
Under a brilliant star I was told
like Jesus Christ I too was born.
Only I am female though
this must be a parallel world
remembered in the negative light wrongly perceived isolated
while all I do is love, give life
save lives protect loved ones.

I'm barely known or viewed even here
persecuted like Jesus was
Just look what happened to Him!
strangely in a way, I've lived His life
I heal myself and others by telepathy
with my healing hands and touch.

The same things happened to me
around the time Mom's birthed me
where she nursed me newborn
one deceiving snake covertly hid.
Later on another bit my leg
immunizing me for what was to come of me that I survived poisoning torture rejections jealousies
envies and was trashed mocked
and sold yes just like Jesus was sold
but for more $ the Jesus was
by a Catholic lunatic nun at age twelve
Perhaps because I am also
God's daughter and my fathers name was also David.
Wasn't Jesus from the house of David,?
I was plotted to be banished
as a baby and later on survivied
while many times left for dead.
Yes death is my friend, it didn't stay
or it released me every time
back to breathing
and among the living
or is it with the dead walking,?

Well then, I hope the Angels lift me up
from this grave called apartment
I shall conquer
death's final sting.

How about you? Describe
your life to me in a story poem.
~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
11-2920.
True story poem
living a parallel reality wish to influence
the errors so I can change this outcome.
The most important thing of being a star is being remembered.
The most amazing thing is to be loved cherished understood fundamentally!.
Sharing innermost feelings,
of truth better then wisdom.
but being trashed for being a hero by villain jealous association of wolves,
is as bad as it can get.

I must be an owful star seed
terrible lover, a bad friend
a most boring wife
a horrible patient but stern mother
a lousy communicator
to have been attacked in all areas of womanhood motherhood wifehood!
left behind all alone a mother, grandmother, sister, poetess!

Today, a gentler thought
saves and rescue me.
People I trusted loved adored,
those I gave life to and saved, just became just cold blooded
narcissist to lack empathy,
understanding
and common sense or are ill.
All ungreatful, under spells
by human predators I
to deny reaching out
to me in this my winter time.

And I realize I am beautiful
in and out, envied, yet
nothing else makes sense.
This undeserved isolation
loneliness, set aside as
unimportant, worthless
systematically trashed as
depicted by their jealousies
underserved.
Ugly unprovoked enemies,
such a nightmare!

Kindly, I realize
the enemy is weak, blind
pack of wolves, culprit snakes
in my paradise rather
stuck to each others poison's,
team of evildoers.

They aren't all alone no.
They team up to harm.
As God in heaven,
and the devil in hell are
my witnesses;
~~
I promise to never
miss my mark ever again
in any lifetime.
Timely, will spill my heart
to the one I adore.
Never give my Aries diamonds
to Greek swine nor to the Charles Manson's advocates
The covert cowards in USA.,
I won't die broke silenced
victimized nor ever alone again..
~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
11-2020
regrets of a purple hearted
poetess, bride, Mom. fiancee
wife. Wounded by the hand of the enemy
Like always you cut me exhausted hungry destitute alone freezing stuttering in coldness without you.
Unaware of how you would pop up with open ended questions
to decide my life without you.

To answer your question with awareness fairness realizing it was you who questioned me;
out of the blue using a new name de plume that I had to intuit it right
that it was you
or forever miss my mark.

No it's never too soon nor too late,
for lovers to meet face to face;
after each catastrophic storm
had ended,
or after a lifetime or two.

You were the only real man
back with me after each storm.
hopping I rescued myself!
You reappeared dead silent,
Talking your own language and you never hinted what hell I lived through.
How astounded in shock wounded i was you carried open ended questions
for me to make lifetime decision
with my shattered heart.
you failed to realize struggling to survive homeless without resources
have no time for healing wisdom.

Why in the world do you ask such questions behind this mirror!??
And sadly for me, in my own answer,
you found your road ahead
with a significant other!.

That was easy wasn't it!?

Should I spell the many
Name De Plume on here HP with your many windows you used!?
You closed some and left others open.

I know you read me on here
delivering anonymous messages
  was that fair!?
~~~~~~
I live by this biblical rule:
"Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast,
it is not proud not covertly hidden..
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking,
it is not easily angered,
it keeps no record of wrong doings.
Love does not delight in evil
but love rejoices with the truth.
~~~~~~
It was never too late or soon dear;
you just asked too many **** questions, and in my suffering pain
I missed my mark again.
You made me stumble and fall.

Yes fall always, with your help.
~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
Inspired by the bible and my old true love
my Angel eyed king of hearts
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