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Who's she, that one in your arms?

She's the one I carried my bones to
and built a house that was just a cot
and built a life that was over an hour
and built a castle where no one lives
and built, in the end, a song
to go with the ceremony.

Why have you brought her here?
Why do you knock on my door
with your little stores and songs?

I had joined her the way a man joins
a woman and yet there was no place
for festivities or formalities
and these things matter to a woman
and, you see, we live in a cold climate
and are not permitted to kiss on the street
so I made up a song that wasn't true.
I made up a song called Marriage.

You come to me out of wedlock
and kick your foot on my stoop
and ask me to measure such things?

Never. Never. Not my real wife.
She's my real witch, my fork, my mare,
my mother of tears, my skirtful of hell,
the stamp of my sorrows, the stamp of my bruises
and also the children she might bear
and also a private place, a body of bones
that I would honestly buy, if I could buy,
that I would marry, if I could marry.

And should I torment you for that?
Each man has a small fate allotted to him
and yours is a passionate one.

But I am in torment. We have no place.
The cot we share is almost a prison
where I can't say buttercup, bobolink,
sugarduck, pumpkin, love ribbon, locket,
valentine, summergirl, funnygirl and all
those nonsense things one says in bed.
To say I have bedded with her is not enough.
I have not only bedded her down.
I have tied her down with a knot.

Then why do you stick your fists
into your pockets? Why do you shuffle
your feet like a schoolboy?

For years I have tied this knot in my dreams.
I have walked through a door in my dreams
and she was standing there in my mother's apron.
Once she crawled through a window that was shaped
like a keyhole and she was wearing my daughter's
pink corduroys and each time I tied these women
in a knot. Once a queen came. I tied her too.
But this is something I have actually tied
and now I have made her fast.
I sang her out. I caught her down.
I stamped her out with a song.
There was no other apartment for it.
There was no other chamber for it.
Only the knot. The bedded-down knot.
Thus I have laid my hands upon her
and have called her eyes and her mouth
as mine, as also her tongue.

Why do you ask me to make choices?
I am not a judge or a psychologist.
You own your bedded-down knot.

And yet I have real daytimes and nighttimes
with children and balconies and a good wife.
Thus I have tied these other knots,
yet I would rather not think of them
when I speak to you of her. Not now.
If she were a room to rent I would pay.
If she were a life to save I would save.
Maybe I am a man of many hearts.

A man of many hearts?
Why then do you tremble at my doorway?
A man of many hearts does not need me.

I'm caught deep in the dye of her.
I have allowed you to catch me red-handed,
catch me with my wild oats in a wild clock
for my mare, my dove and my own clean body.
People might say I have snakes in my boots
but I tell you that just once am I in the stirrups,
just once, this once, in the cup.
The love of the woman is in the song.
I called her the woman in red.
I called her the woman in pink
but she was ten colors
and ten women
I could hardly name her.

I know who she is.
You have named her enough.

Maybe I shouldn't have put it in words.
Frankly, I think I'm worse for this kissing,
drunk as a piper, kicking the traces
and determined to tie her up forever.
You see the song is the life,
the life I can't live.
God, even as he passes,
hand down monogamy like slang.
I wanted to write her into the law.
But, you know, there is no law for this.

Man of many hearts, you are a fool!
The clover has grown thorns this year
and robbed the cattle of their fruit
and the stones of the river
have ****** men's eyes dry,
season after season,
and every bed has been condemned,
not by morality or law,
but by time.
Between us now and here—
Two thrown together
Who are not wont to wear
Life’s flushest feather—

Who see the scenes slide past,
The daytimes dimming fast,
Let there be truth at last,
Even if despair.

So thoroughly and long
Have you now known me,
So real in faith and strong
Have I now shown me,
That nothing needs disguise
Further in any wise,
Or asks or justifies
A guarded tongue.

Face unto face, then, say,
Eyes my own meeting,
Is your heart far away,
Or with mine beating?
When false things are brought low,
And swift things have grown slow,
Feigning like froth shall go,
Faith be for aye.
Frigid Winter whorls ,                                                                ­                         Sunlights antithesis .. Cackling , disabling and bitter ..
Spring becomes a 'mongrel' with fragmented , midnight blue -cranberry evening apogee hallucinations .. Daytimes forfeiture of youthful ambition mingled with the wailing cur of March  ...
Copyright March 19 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved

Cold night in Georgia ..
Poetic T Jun 2018
Stagnant azure silently peels
      above the clouds of old oak
       that hover mutely behind It.

Fleeting sunlight is obscured
         behind shadows of daytimes
passing, its frailty now closed .

Beyond this fleeting moment
           is a cloudless rendition of
happiness unlocked momentarily.
Danica Sep 2014
The lonely runner leaves behind the urban sprawl,
as neighbours close their shades against the chilly night.
Sunsets fingers grasp the sky in shades of red and gold
and try to hold the remnants of the evening light.

His footsteps stroke the ground,
where travellers homeward bound
have found no pleasure in their weary tread.
Striding now with natural ease, no thought involved,
as frosty air takes hold of breath
to paint a streetlight halo round his head.

He takes the path he loves the best,
the grassy tracks surviving  
mans encroaching fields of tarmac grey.
The trees enfold him as he runs,
their fallen leaves disturbed beneath his feet  
as rustling echoes pave his solitary way.

He feels his inner battle start, as strength of spirit
vies with bodies lack of will.
The plateau reached he pushes on
and knows his mind can overcome
the weakness of the outer shell.

Elation reached in solitude
and self sought conflict fought and won,
the runner slows his steps and turns for home,
part sorrowful of evening ritual done.

With weary flesh but soul refreshed,
escaping from the daytimes ties a little while,
her face unbidden comes to mind
and thoughts to waiting pleasures turn ..
and bring a smile.
"I'm having a hard time working at the gumball jaw breaker factory. I'm tired of the **** at the manure-bagging plant too. Over the moon, under the gun, over the top, underneath the sink...manor, man or, manure, man *****, manner...Doctor Wayne, my emotional pain kills my job-hunting prospects, you fat, bald, stinking charlatan!"
   "Very good, Timmy," Doctor Wayne said. "I gotta take a dump." And he did and it was like a million plumbers died for nothing.
    And, "It's 10 minutes old, which is ten times longer than my attention span. The Australia part isn't for you it's for a different beautiful speed-boat girl living a quokka-free life on the beach. You wouldn't like her as she sleeps through Florida daytimes."
   "What's that mean? Do you know?"
   "I don't know what it means."
"I'm having a hard time working at the gumball jaw breaker factory. I'm tired of the **** at the manure-bagging plant too. Over the moon, under the gun, over the top, underneath the sink...manor, man or, manure, man *****, manner...Doctor Wayne, my emotional pain kills my job-hunting prospects, you fat, bald, stinking charlatan!"
   "Very good, Timmy," Doctor Wayne said. "I gotta take a dump." And he did and it was like a million plumbers died for nothing.
    And, "It's 10 minutes old, which is ten times longer than my attention span. The Australia part isn't for you it's for a different beautiful speed boat girl living a quokka-free life on the beach. You wouldn't like her as she sleeps through Florida daytimes."
   "What's that mean? Do you know?"
   "I don't know what it means."
"Very good, Timmy," Doctor Wayne said. "I gotta take a dump." And he did and it was like a million plumbers died for nothing.
    And, "It's 10 minutes old, which is ten times longer than my attention span. The Australia part isn't for you it's for a different beautiful speed boat girl living a quokka-free life on the beach. You wouldn't like her as she sleeps through Florida daytimes."
   "What's that mean? Do you know?"
   "I don't know what it means."
Come on in! Everything is 50% off. How about this? No, not that! But you said everything is 50% off! Well, not that! How about this? No, not that either!

Axionical piracy cools hot love among atomical pirates. Check Daddy's wallet for a bath house membership card because he's 57, purportedly grown up & lady-like. Western women are dominant, but alas, I'm not strong enough. I'm 10 minutes older, which is ten times longer than my attention span. The Australian part of my published book history is chow for a beautiful speed-boat girl, who sleeps through Florida daytimes while living a quokka-free life on the beach. Things are transmogrifying up/down toward the teen-ready rosy, the pinkish, the blood-tinged & tingly around swollen *****.  I sit on a chair with my *** hair unwaxed & tragical, because I want to impress you with my **** tricks that are Disney magical.  Disney's got gynecologies that we daren't dream of...
"I'm having a hard time working at the gumball jaw breaker factory. I'm tired of the **** at the manure-bagging plant too. Over the moon, under the gun, over the top, underneath the sink...manor, man or, manure, man *****, manner...Doctor Wayne, my emotional pain kills my job-hunting prospects, you fat, bald, stinking charlatan!"**

   "Very good, Timmy," Doctor Wayne said. "I gotta take a dump." And he did and it was like a million plumbers died for nothing.
    And, "It's 10 minutes old, which is ten times longer than my attention span. The Australia part isn't for you it's for a different beautiful speed boat girl living a quokka-free life on the beach. You wouldn't like her as she sleeps through Florida daytimes."
   "What's that mean? Do you know?"
   "I don't know what it means."
"I'm having a hard time working at the gumball jaw breaker factory. I'm tired of the **** at the manure-bagging plant too. Over the moon, under the gun, over the top, underneath the sink...manor, man or, manure, man *****, manner...Doctor Wayne, my emotional pain kills my job-hunting prospects, you fat, bald, stinking charlatan!"
   "Very good, Timmy," Doctor Wayne said. "I gotta take a dump." And he did and it was like a million plumbers died for nothing.
    And, "It's 10 minutes old, which is ten times longer than my attention span. The Australia part isn't for you it's for a different beautiful speed boat girl living a quokka-free life on the beach. You wouldn't like her as she sleeps through Florida daytimes."
   "What's that mean? Do you know?"
   "I don't know what it means."
"I'm having a hard time working at the gumball jaw breaker factory. I'm tired of the **** at the manure-bagging plant too. Over the moon, under the gun, over the top, underneath the sink...manor, man or, manure, man *****, manner...Doctor Wayne, my emotional pain kills my job-hunting prospects, you fat, bald, stinking charlatan!"
   "Very good, Timmy," Doctor Wayne said. "I gotta take a dump." And he did and it was like a million plumbers died for nothing.
    And, "It's 10 minutes old, which is ten times longer than my attention span. The Australia part isn't for you it's for a different beautiful speed boat girl living a quokka-free life on the beach. You wouldn't like her as she sleeps through Florida daytimes."
   "What's that mean? Do you know?"
   "I don't know what it means."
"I'm having a hard time working at the gumball jaw breaker factory. I'm tired of the **** at the manure-bagging plant too. Over the moon, under the gun, over the top, underneath the sink...manor, man or, manure, man *****, manner...Doctor Wayne, my emotional pain kills my job-hunting prospects, you fat, bald, stinking charlatan!"
   "Very good, Timmy," Doctor Wayne said. "I gotta take a dump." And he did and it was like a million plumbers died for nothing.
    And, "It's 10 minutes old, which is ten times longer than my attention span. The Australia part isn't for you it's for a different beautiful speed-boat girl living a quokka-free life on the beach. You wouldn't like her as she sleeps through Florida daytimes."
   "What's that mean? Do you know?"
   "I don't know what it means."
CharlesC Jan 2020
How do we know..?
Our waking life convinces
Dreams are nighttimes..
Daytimes show what
Really counts as we fill
Our notches in daytime
Expectation..

Agreement here brings on
The waves
Of nicety and nastiness
Which we know so well..
Nighttime escapes bring
Temporary relief..until
Morning's waves resume..

Is there a break..?
Something new..?
Temporary..?
Permanence..?
An exchange..?
Some say so...

— The End —