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onlylovepoetry Jul 2016
for Sally, Bex and Tonya, Denel and my beloved

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gods do not seek forgiveness,
or comprehension,
desertion, desecration, ascension
or condemning condescension

but how how they crave
just a good conversation,
to get a word in edgewise,
a nice chat,
entrée à, la tête-à-tête,
entre deux, deluxe-amis

a casually talking,
absent of
words of need and beseech,
reason and causality,
and no I or We pronouns,
sans enunciations and annunciations,
false hopes for incarnations, incantations,
set asides for life's grievous aches
all human requests, and some of God's commandments
for now, set aside,
annulled

just a talk,
some repartee,
but mostly an open ear lent,
an early morn quiet listen
over tea (he/she) and coffee (me),
paying attention to
both sides of an interactive story

as recompense for my willingness to be,
his engaged counter party,
my mourning gloomier cloudiness,
quick exchanged for instant,
rising sunshine warming glorious

my vista
of a bay dancing
to Tchaikovsky Swan Lake ballet music,
deftly inserted between
an Agnus Dei and an Ave Maria

mood music he said,
and we chuckled,
he/she was god and orchestrated
my tastes,
Adele et Dudamel,
comprehending my undesirable apprehension,
by granting my needy wish for
poetic inspirational composition contentment

all exchanged,
for just a good listen,
no judgements, in either direction

I am the god of love,
the one who makes you weep,
when you study your beloved's rising chest,
each uplifted breast heaving,
a confirmation blessing,
that her life is present
for at least the next second,
ready for your magi adoration

be not fearful,
this day we talk only,
as I pass by,
I have no business to conduct,
on your island of sheltering redoubt,
but to engage and unburden
for even gods
are required to confess,
and aging godheads do adore
a human shoulder
upon to rest,
a great invention,
(If I may say so myself)
and to whom better to address
than my only love poetry
poète personnelle

here he off-guards me
with a favorite injection,
Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings,
music so sweet that it never fails
to weaken my knees,
sweeping my eyes unto weeping
priming me with this first coat of
sounds so elementary soothing

he half-bows before me and says,


forgive me human, for I have sinned

in Dallas and Nice,
just this past week,
with forays here and there,
doing god's work

read your bitterness and struggle,
anger and forgiveness all in one crust,
furious curses and wails so plaintive,
my heavenly musicians weep from jealousy,
at the cries emanating from the fired fury song
of human hearts torn and love plundered

I am the god of love

and

the god of pain and all that is the

anti-love

(and to make me better understand,  
Schindler's List score, so sweetly,
he plays for me,
to clarify the atmosphere,
that death and love -
and the courage of understanding,
so oft go hand in hand)

write me a love poem for me,
no hymn or sonnet do I require,
for love is essence of forgive,
there is no perfect union,
that cannot stand,
with out this emotion of
conciliatory intermediation

tell me you understand
that the scales
of bereft befallen,
disparate chance interrupting randomized,
must periodic perforce
sometimes weigh more,
than the good of simple

balance tip that creative god spark within,
of which you write,
away from my bloodied, unsightly hand

write me one more love poem
a frisson semi-sweet and cleanly neat,
of good things sad,
but worthy of remembrance

you are not the first for this bequest to receive,
other poet's before and after,
will Jacob-wrestle with my angels,
battling to find the...

no matter

"my love to thee is sound sans crack or flaw"^

let your love poem
to me
be of whole healing,
for these disarrayed feelings
cannot forever persist,
the perfect balance you desire
is not on your Earth existent,
unobtainable

these cracks and flaws must and will come


and yet

love poems
will be our common language

and then he/she left,
leaving this poem behind,
born from my mind, yet,
carved on my skin,
written with the nib of my rib,
sealed and signed,
future undefined,
but dated upon my
cleansed hand's lifeline,
hand held outstretched
as if to say


“and yet"
^ "my love to thee is sound sans crack or flaw".
William Shakespeare

Sunday, July 17th 2016
8:42am
Anno ab incarnatione Domini
Eryri Mar 29
Happy non-Brexit day!
We were meant to leave EU today
But the government is a travesty,
The party politics a tragedy,
Leaving the electorate in
a total state of apathy.
Let's be clear (as May likes to say):
EU were never that bad,
Peace in my time is what I've had
So let me be clearer:
I don't want to break with EU
But it seems inevitable
So all I ask is:
Catch our falling star
And, whilst our politcians negotiate a long drawn out "**** it!",
Keep it in your pocket.
But, for now...
C'est la vie, mes amis.
History
A simple Story
To thine own Self
Be True
The Path Leads Upward
There are  many approaches
To the Summit.
But only One can
Attain it at a Time
Each must lighten
The load to
Make it
To that Final Place
Where Heaven takes Us
Up
Anti
Gravity!

Along The Way to
Supreme individuality: Collectivities
That demand Our
First Loyalties be to the
Group will Fear and distrust
The One
Who's First Loyalty is to
The True Self
So the final
Assent leads by way
of
Crucifixion
Christ is the Logo
The Icon of the
True Self of All
Everyone is on
The Way.
Honor your Mother
And Father
Raise them Up
For Salvation is of
The Blood
Your Blood

It is in the Overcoming of
Every Fear that
Prevents  Man from
Being Good.
Towards Love
In Love
We are all ascending
Why?  Because it is
Wonderful
The Most Wonderful
Experience of All
To Be Good
To Know That You are a Child
Of  God...Inheriting
Eternal Life as
Your Birthright.
Bon Voyage -Mes Amis
Fellow Travelers
It is a Voyage
Well Worth Taking
Once...You
Must Forgive me
If I repeat Myself
I am of Old



First typed while listening to RIck Steves on PBS " Making Travel A Political Act" Thanks Rick
Nous sommes
Que c'est que? appelez vous? oui
agreable de amis
comme ça va possédez sapplez vous décrié liberté
War and
Other enemies
There is an anthem of the old son
Called Jesus Chirst
Some proximities
I know you have made a magnificent design
For your home and your soon gone
I've missed you and your talk
You're an old friend and we are just laughing about
Talking about the dreams
There were dramas yes I know
But enough eloquent speeches improptu just as a superiority symbol
Every word you say is used against
Think
What you're gonna see and sometimes in the midst of dusty storm of equivalence
We can't the see the balance the show of power
The jam and slow on down
Take it on
Tempers rising and building a hearing
A limb out here
This is my slam
Check it out
Somewhere in the real fuming summer of my neighbourhood
Rwanda
I was attacke4d by the soldiers of the government
With the truths
And the footsteps of reality
With the presence of temper
I am angry and you shouldn't get me mad
**** it son, you care for a hype
You live to fight
And are stuck in a part of your heart
What's part of an act?
Whatchu talkin about?
SOme rhyme some real reason
Some global phenomenon
Engaging with every prison
Social change is a game and tis for winners
Lets breed and change a grip on remembrance
CHange of scenery ona forever trip of sometime
Yesterday
Here's a resonance
OF bright sunshine
There's the daybreak
And the surprise twist
And the gripping waves of the summer breeze
As they channel through your feelings under your skin
Loving touch
And each hungered one
Sometime's a tribute is killing me in the name of the Lord
Sometime's a tribute is killing me in the name of the Lord
Some time's the name of a God is enough
In the name of;
In the name of;
Strength
French.
sara Mar 15
je pense
que cette vie n'est pas pour moi
cette décision, ce n'est pas irréfléchi
j'en pense tout le temps
je rêve de la mort
et je l'attends

je voulais qu'il y avoie été un autre choix
mais maintenant
je ne crois pas en ces fantasies naïf
j'ai grandi
et je comprends maintenant
la vie n'est pas pour moi
la vie ne sera jamais pour moi

je ne doute pas
que ce chemin soit le mien

j'espère qu'il y a quelque chose
que je pourrais faire pour ma famille
pour mes amis
pour les gens qui seront un peu tristes
quand tout est fini

mais je sais
que tout que je peux faire
est écrit une lettre bien
qui explique les pensées que
vole dans ma tête

fin

— The End —