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CK Baker Feb 2017
There’s a silverback haze
on the shallow face
of the Rockwell Ridge
folded brow
puzzled chin
and dark hollow eyes
keeping watch
over the lilies
and crane flies
and will of the wisp

Rust brown ravens
and fisher kings
delight
in the reeds off north bend
(chased by the terraced streams!)
youth blades engrain
on the favoured
and historic
Banka Memorial

Mustard
and pumpkin skies
are clipped
by a call from
the resident loon
the sounds of Buddha Bar
piercing the silence
and shaping the afternoon chord

It’s a time to make way (stream side)
seems the anuran are courting
A Thomas Hawkins Jul 2010
Give us all your cash
For a fee we'll give some back
Or maybe we wont
We'll use it as we see fit
If we get it wrong, you lose.
erik diskin Oct 2020
so much i learned about love from people who don't know how to love. i've learned from lost souls, unhealed fears, saints to sinners. love is not a holy father but a confusing religion yet to unravel.
the way i finally learned to see is to be completely blind. that holding too much saturation in front of your eyes caused you color-blind.
that i can't fix someone who is too comfortable at the state of being broken.
falling in love with a poet like me meaning i'm gonna remember your tiniest speckles. your blurriest memories. your brightest hues. packed them into a fine story that i can re-read and then write again.
from great california to meaningless banka. or a ***** like jakarta. with you, i prayed to the right God but with a wrong religion. so instead, He changed the current. my faith is re-new and flesh-fresh. He kept making it hurt until i numb enough to know that it was not meant to be. so i let go. of any claims but my worth.
you taught me that even it was love that you had offered, love is not enough reason. to hell about your "oh, the grass is greener on the other side" because it'll decay. the next morning, the silence already too loud. the oceans already too vast.
but i'll show you what is that to have a heart.
as messy as it is, as grande as what it capable of.

here i am, far from your grasp. a story you no longer can hear because deaf makes it way to your ear. blame it on our parents. the difference is, i'm no longer listening to them anymore. they too made of distorted glass and wrongdoings. the difference is, no matter what was the time and place, i chose you from any other things. but now, i ******* choose me.

the rest, it'll fall in the most sensible and right way.
for love is not perfect but this home deserves spotless love.
a purified love, the same amount of fight.
a light guiding every lost bird in the uneasy nights.

— The End —