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We talk about the
past like it's a
movie we
watched together.
You liked the
cinematography.
I didn't care for the
cruelty of the
protagonist.

We disagree on the
theme, and every
scene holds different
aspects of
symbolism for us.
I'm not sure I want
there to be a sequel,
despite the good
acting.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gn9IAYo0wZE
Here is a link to my YouTube channel, where I read poetry from my latest book, Sleep Always Calls.  It's available on Amazon.  My two other books are also available.  Seedy Town Blues and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse.
I don't speed for fun,
I speed so the cameras don't see me,
In a year or three,
You'll see me in Formula 1
 Jun 8 Jimmy silker
Megan
I cup the moon in my hands
from a safe space
on untamed ground
in a forgotten place.

The moon—
its glow, it lingers,
wrapping soft eggshell hues
around my fingers.
There was time to relax
to take off the yoke
and ease our aching backs
but not much at all.

The pit pony was the only one
younger than me, and he could see
better than I.

The Spedding steel mill  was a light that could ****
progress gave us the Davy Lamp
I thank Humphry for that innovation
and they made him a Knight
good job he invented that new kind of light
haha.

fukin' back's still aching
they're still taking
and we ain't making
much at all.
The storm has passed.  
Now there is silence.
Pain is silently sitting
in some corners of my heart,
waiting to drift into a deep slumber,  
never to be awakened again.
When your broken by the blow, and the jagged edges of despair cause the wounds to grow.

When the crystal hits the pavement and you can’t even imagine what the pile of glass used to be. When the tears flow so freely and last so long that its hard to see.

When your heart is so heavy it’s beating you to death from the inside. When you cant organize your thoughts no matter how hard you have tried.

When it feels like everything you thought you knew was just a lie. And you are unsure of whether to start over or say goodbye.

At that place between hard and desperate when your cheeks are wet from the tears without respite.

I Turn to the one who knows us to our very core who knit us together and desires for our pain to be no more!

I Gaze upon his Mercy his forgiveness his Grace, his unimaginable love as I see his blood and tear stained face!

He knew hurt, and suffering, rejection, and pain. Endured hardships and displayed self sacrifice again and again.

So in the midst of my grief and chaos without cease. I can run to him and find mercy and peace.
Through thickness of the leaves a ray of light
Shines happily upon the burial site.
A cold steel coffin cradles in its hearth
The last surviving man on Earth.

He dreams of faces he remembers not
The Noh masks floating on their very spot,
Of a woman’s kiss and of her gentle smile.
Who was she? It has been a while.

A while that has lasted generations.
He from afar observed how every single nation
Tore down its contender’s throat
Until no one was left afloat.

With nations gone; the chaos reigned.
The worst in worst emerged unchained.
Regimes and wars had bled lands dry.
The people's end was drawing nigh.

He watched them come and watched them go -
Myriads of faces that he had come to know.
How many hands he tightly held until
Their masters felt dark lady’s blissful chill?

Remembrance lives of children lulled to sleep
First steps they took toward their father’s keep.
The paper boats they’d sent together on the sailing.
He fetched the water when their legs were failing.

A peaceful smile lingered on the wrinkled face
Of child passing on in his embrace.
The grip was tight long after he was gone
That day he buried last surviving son.

In aftershock he searched without rest
Amidst the forlorn ruins calling out like obsessed.
He would have burnt the world to ash, if given choice,
To hear an echo of a human’s voice.

For days and days he called and found none.
The fates are crueler to those attempt to run
The restless chase of his, no fruit it bore
Leading him back to the haunted shore.

Adrift he floated through the memories of joy,
Like paper boat set sailing by the little boy.
The salty waters lapping at his feet
Brought onward the attacking paper fleet.

And now, nothing could have hurt him more
Than gentle breeze, waves crashing on the shore.
For what are worth the shores, the distant skies
If they are destined only for his eyes?

These empty views, these meaningless delights -
Four walls he chose to shelter from their blight.
In cold steel coffin dies away the harrowing scream.
Inside, he feels the souls long gone with him.

Where foliage forbids the rays to venture forth
The cold steel coffin cradles the last man on Earth.
A pathetic creature forced to strive,
Forever cursed to be alive.
Sad, dessicated flower
I was enthralled with
Your delicate roots, tipsy
With your Typhoid Mary
Doses of shroomy caps
And bitter smiles. I choked
Them down with a vengeance,
As the saying goes. But, this
Rubbed you like a congestive
Illness, and you embraced our
Final moments together
With punishing alacrity.
You
You're just a memory—
fading like sunlight at the edge of day,
a flower wilting in the hush of fall,
a river whispering itself away.

And yet...
hope lingers on that fragile thread of what if—
But is it worth holding on,
if all that’s left is space
growing wider
between your name and mine?
Wee
A flickering street lamp
Fedora and a black thin tie

that's all I get in my
dreams

an occasional shot glass
filled with perfect cubes

and a splash of something
dark to drink

maybe
For Frank
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