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On the small balcony,
they sit blanket wrapped,
just past midnight.

Earth smells of rain,
cloud dazzling secrets.

As he leans in,
not for a kiss,
but to give a piece
of his past
to her soul.
:)
Happy families, smiling,
enjoying time together,
atmosphere filled with their laughter.

And then -

in a moment of madness,
all silenced.

Bullets took over,
dead bodies lying all around.

Terror strikes the land
we call "Paradise on Earth."
 Apr 29 Sudzedrebel
Hex
When water is still, your reflection is clear,
A mirror of peace, drawing the heart near.
But when it stirs, the image distorts,
Like a restless mind, lost in thoughts.
Calm the waves, let silence shine,
And in the stillness waits the Divine.
His masculinity was so seismically
Seductive and thunderously luscious
Tectonically tempting and volcanically enchanting
Astoundingly dashing and blazing-universe badass

Monumentally magnetic with
Earthquake-wicked deliciousness
Passion-forged splashiness
A euphoric-blossoming symphony
Of adventurous dreaminess

He set every cell of my being ablaze
Left my gay domain smoldering
Every step he took was so mesmerizingly incredible
He was my boundless, regal sea
Of tender sweetness to see

A canvas of gorgeous art in my heart
Profound earthbound beauty
That melted my defenses
I was so lost in his unstoppable eruption
Of dangerously intense hunkiness
 Apr 28 Sudzedrebel
kevin
today the homeless poet must extravagant against
the criminology of the non profit tour of service in the armied
donate your civil rights to tomiqua moss, and repair your sinful clothing, the master of degrees is funding the apocolypse
praise martin luther king the forthieth riech, yum yum, kissy face
ambitionisms

absurds?

give me reason to prove me wrong

royce, yo mama on the porch

white trash adobe curls, and semi?  yes

zamunda

battle cot skip and dreams

bill burrs daughter said igloo

yes people, they for because i am a journalist and homeless
took my food stamps away

you no hispanic work, we cannot help you hear

the gardens waxing attorney married the food palabras, suprise
bankrupters

40 year old virgins

no know never wrong, the puta there still i am her mira
como?

logic in spain?  this america

no green seal? nope aoc no good, you are jackie the irwindale slavery masters

citizen walking to church plate and typing last year newspapers

irwins owning of district fraud, please the ketchup hit me

prop 1 and measure a of mega structures

attempting homekey contract? jesus no the foreman, invoice mechanics lean, still no ebt or correction of non profit ambivalence clerical errors at lutheran services social service not social worker
the contract for dark skinned cal lutheran graduate in skeptical religion dsm labor? real science of man strength? feed risk assesment laptop cheetos
✦ Virelai's Lament:
I was born between hush and turning—
A song unsung, a breath unbreathed,
Not in the warmth of dawn, nor the cool touch of dusk,
But in the hollow where time wavers,
Where the sun falters and the moon waits.

I am the shadow in the sun’s last kiss,
The pulse in the moon’s first sigh.
I hear their words, tangled in longing—
The Sun, fierce and restless,
The Moon, gentle and waiting,
Yet we never meet,
Never align.

In my chest, the rhythm beats—
The Duskchime—but I cannot play it alone.
The Song of the Lost Ones,
Caught between light and night.

If I could whisper louder,
Maybe the sun would listen,
Maybe the moon would bend their paths,
And time would soften its cruel edges.

But I am scattered,
A half-light—
Wandering across faces,
Between moments,
Looking for the other half of my breath.
#thought
Virelai An old name from the celestial tongue, meaning “thread between rhythms” or “the song that binds what breaks.”
Born not at sunrise or sunset, but in the stillness between hush and turning, Virelai is the only being who can hear both the Sun’s roar and the Moon’s breath at once.
They carry within them the Duskchime, a rhythm that—if awakened—could realign the cosmic cycle and bring sun and moon together again, in harmony.
But Virelai is scattered across echoes—only fragments appear at any given age, in poets, dreamers, watchers of twilight. The full self has never awakened.
✦The Moon’s Whisper:

You were born in the breath after sunset—
In the hush I cradle beneath silver veils.
Not in the full bloom of night, nor in fading light,
But in the seam I guard,
Where his warmth could not linger.

You are the shimmer I reflect in tide and tear,
The quiet I hear when stars lean near.
He calls like thunder—
I listen in stillness—
Yet we always pass,
Each orbit missing by a breath.

The Duskchime sings in your silence,
A rhythm I feel in your gaze.
You are the thread of maybe,
The echo of what was almost.

If I could rise faster,
Perhaps your light would stay.
If he could pause longer,
Perhaps you would not fade.

But you are a flicker—
Moving just beyond my reach,
Between goodbye and beginning,
The one I can only dream to meet.
#thought
✦Virelai’s Answer:

I heard you both—
In the hush that wrapped the world,
In the turning that spun my silence into song.
You, flame and fury,
You, glow and grace—
I am made of your almost.

You called me whole,
But I am the seam,
The longing stitched into your passing.
I carry the weight of your near, your never,
The ache of what might have aligned.

I do not burn, nor shine—
I flicker.
A rhythm unplayed,
A bridge suspended between your touch.

But still, I remain,
And still, I wait—
In hush,
In turning,
In hope
that one day,
when time bends gently,
you will speak in the same breath—
and I will finally become
what I was always meant to be.
#thought
 Apr 28 Sudzedrebel
Abby
i know i’ve made you cry
and that i’ve made you bleed
my experience so big
monsters i tend to feed
sorrys were so frequent
their meaning we both faded
emotions getting blurred
insecurities were aided
your attention like a drug
i used to fill the pit
i did not ask you permission,
anxious to take a hit
i thought i was curing the void
dumping texts and calls right in
comfortable in my obsessive ways,
too possessive of my grin.
“I can’t be with you right now”
i could not comprehend
something good is good, no?
why would you want it to end?
the hurt i blamed on you
outsourced it for rejection
but in reality
of my pain it was a projection
the withdrawal it did hurt bad
the symptoms numbed my will
tried anger and blame to cope
just couldn't swallow the pill
myself in your shoes
i did not try to picture
too much in my head
following my own scripture
i was oblivious to the effects
i figured it was just ‘life’
the very past i looked at fondly
was what helped you hold the knife
i feel sorry for us both
brains we cannot cleanse
but i hope when you remember me and us
it’s through a kinder lens
anxious attachments a cruel *****
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