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I find you in that morning sky,
in the bird songs and the fresh air
I find you in the flower
with sweet smell!
You're in the happiness of bees.

You're on wet leaves of dew
and in the early dawn
You're in the green branches of spring
You're at the beginning of ray.
O God, the rising sun follows
your command every day.

Oh my God,
Bless me like this beautiful nature!
I pray to you this heavenly morning-
Give me patience and make me pious;
Lord, forgive me with your mercy, please!
BE
My latest book "Love Falls With Tears" is live on amazon.
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 Feb 2021 Veritia Venandi
EMD
XLVII
 Feb 2021 Veritia Venandi
EMD
You’re still a stranger
Though you hurt me once
Once in a nightmare
Which princess’s song should I bastardize next?
crunchy leaves float
meadows dancing rain
wrapping sun in gray
by Svetli
The more enlightened
   you become
the more power
   you have

to create
a new mind
a new life
a new world!
On the edge of autumn,
I see the sky and trees all
ablaze with color.
I can still smell the
smoldering fires of fierce youth,
when the landscape of my
heart was wild;
a wilderness that wouldn't
be tamed.
But I'm afraid that
old age has quenched my
thirst for adventure.
Even my poems have lost their teeth.
Gone are my scabbed up knees and
swords made out of sticks.
No beautiful maidens to rescue;
Just constipation to overcome;
as I listen to the
ticking of the clock.
Pain, yes “pain” make us strong
Exercise it or suffer along
Feed back is what we seek
We’re all a bunch of egotistic freaks

Take the good with the bad
Don’t know nothing and be glad
The masters fall like eggs from walls
Sniveling stars grow ya some *****!
Traveler 🧳
-


I hit something with my right front
wheel on the highway as I drove
home one evening.

A thump was felt, followed by
"Clank" "Clank" "Clank" "Clank"
"Clank" "Clank";

Well, I stopped to investigate—

And found the microphone cable
of a CB radio embedded into my tire
between the treads,

I did not pull on it for fear of deflation,
so I taped it to the valve stem and
slowly made my way home.

Ended up having to pull the tire
off the rim in order to reveal the
scope of my situation,

And discovered within—
                                         
A dead Cobra...


s jones
July 2020

.
21 Feb 2021


this poem was written  
after pulling the aluminum
hexagonal handle
of a scratch awl out
of my tire last summer—

of all things...

Cobra—
a brand of CB radio
popular in the late 20th
century


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