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artisticAR May 2021
The eyes are the mirror to
the soul
Mine, closed, so you'll
never know
That I am in want of
one thing
that you can't possibly
To render me once again,
artisticAR May 2021
Now is not a favourable day
To put thoughts on paper
My mind, like a drawer in disarray
where notes are jumbled together
But when the sun greets the morning
with a  promise of things untold
my words will  burst, exploding
And shatter , my self, exposed
artisticAR Apr 2021
You crawl, you wind
You circle to find
A Strand of your life
Left behind...
artisticAR Apr 2021
Wrap her gullibility,
secure it with Charm
Leave it as forage,
for others to disarm
artisticAR Apr 2021
What does time mean
if you're not there?
When my teardrops leave their
tracks in the dust
and my heart tears when I look up
to see you're missing.
What is time, when I reach out across the bed, my hand grasping
at emptiness and I realize
you're missing
What is time, when I want to share
a thought or two
but keep them silent, hidden from you, because you're missing
What is time, when broken plans of our future lay like mosaic
pieces of a picture
Waiting to be glued back together
But your piece is missing.
artisticAR Feb 2021
January 30th...

Drinking coffee with Bailey's
Anything to numb the pain
My heart sinks, crippled and heavy
Outside, it's dismal, rain
I sleep an hour or two
wake up thinking I see you
But you're missing...
I shuffle around the corners
of our house
You're everywhere, your coat,
your socks, your coffee mug
We've closed the door to our bedroom
I hope you don't mind
I promise we'll reopen it again,
in time
I don't know if you can see us
But I wear your golden chain
and D. wears your silver ring
I'll give your brothers
something of you
I just hope I choose the
right thing.

I love you so much,
rest my darling
Till we meet again
on the other side
artisticAR Jan 2021
His church was a pub
its regulars, his disciples.
A community of patrons
some staunchly miserable
others unorthodoxly insightful.

At night, the needy took his beer
And the connoisseurs, his wine...
but his behaviour was instinctive
and his wordless signals, kind
and for a while I called him, mine
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