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September Roses Jun 2018
How did you get in here
How did you work your way into my life
The one I keep people out of

How did it start to get to me
How did I start to care
How did you start to matter
When nothing else does

How did I not see you coming
How did you dodge my defence
How did you get past the walls
      
      Those are lies
                     I let you in
Harry Jan 2015
We used to tussle on the bathroom floor
And hide away our secrets
behind the pantry door.
Your Mum would drink herself to sleep each night
After discussing with her mind the favored ways she'd like to die,
Concluding somewhat sadly
That she'd gladly drown beneath her cries -
A pain she only shows below her eyes;
A burn she's slowly learnt how to disguise.
onlylovepoetry Mar 2018
Friday night immodesty

theater on East 4th street @ 8:00pm,
so the girlie stuff commences on schedule
90 minuets a-priori and the medley music
(adele+amy+alicia+ pink bach for some zing)
a harbinger, a pioneer Greek heralding of
Friday night immodesty

the clothes laid out upon the bed, the shoes,
pumps selected and already on,
(always a puzzler to me,)
the subdued lower east side jewelry possibilities,
on the dresser drawer,
indifferently hoping for selection, but
casually beaming quietly,
like those kids waiting for interviews in the waiting room
of the college Admissions Dean’s office,
all with serious smiles
and tiny tearing eyes

aside:
helloooooo, I am in a poetry polo with my best jeans ready to go
2 hours before the curtain calls out,
hellooooooo

she sits at the makeup mirrored desk,
clad in only her underneath garments of varying utility,
when I sweep in imperially
and with one hand twist gentle her hair upwards,
betraying
her neck nape which is again
the sujet of a poem aborning

lips,
like a Greek lyre strings, pluck, the tiny hid hairs never seen,
her instant moans at the never fully expected motion poem,
beg more mercy but no quarter given despite repeated cries
of you’ll mess my makeup,
the best defense known to a lady!

god gave men two thumbs to lift up,
simultaneously stimulating,
slide down each of the thin black brasserie strap invitations,
upon each, a writ,
upon her flesh colored shoulders,
stating
“what was she thinking!”

my lips,
now polar explorers, those power (filled) poles side by side,
(east/west for the designer was a smart
bipolar guy-person);
the lips play silent night progressive jazz,
tinkling with higher noted keys,
nape to shoulders moving down to the back’s prefrontal lobe,
the small of her back, the body’s quivering,
a con-federate flag of surrender

her last defense swept aside, we drink honey and milk,
celebrate the week’s mellifluous finish with immodest touching,
the lower east side will belong tonite
to only the hipsters, the millennials,
as our hips are milling and  otherwise
pre-theater and post, occupado

some hours later, watching TV and eating delivered Chinese,
she laterally and literally arm punches my arm
intensely to mark her discontent,
still annoyed,
for I

1) messed up her makeup,
2) best blouse to the dry cleaner and
3) the tickets wasted, and worse,
hits me again!

after I laugh and giggle upon proffering
most modestly, most assuredly,
seconds of
onlylovepoetry

9.21am Saturday
thank you all who liked this tale of
the poetry in the details
of our lives.
olp
mariano aponte Jan 2016
Misconceptions
Fasley smiles
Psychoanalyzed  
Could it be my OCDish
Would they agree or disagree
Respectfully  - with no referee
Whatever matter  - It doesn’t
Let it be
I’m carefree
It’s the best defense
Not a draftee
A perfectionist I am
It stems from many forces
My moral sense
At any expense
Not remorses

Their sweet jabs
From the start
Yes
From day one
Like Mr. Shukar - they see
I'm the new prospect
My disposition in scrutiny
As I take in with fluency
No unity
Let it be
I’ll take it in my dome
Its my best cover
Not styrofoam
I'll take it whichever way it's thrown
Please...
Pass the twisted news along
I continue staying strong
Detail-oriented is my syndrome
Where as one told me a Girl so Beloved
Whose White Soldiers fought hard to overtake
But Bless her River-Red Defense involved
Un-sully her Soft-Flaming Mind does make
Grateful for the Favour you volunteer
Though Shy, Cross-Country we can still befriend
Souls like you, Countenance; And in Best Cheer
The Angel whose Healing Hands recommend
May I know your Name? So that I Sponsor
At least in Spirit Common Bonds reveal
Hands clasped, and pray for Hope in your Honour
Dear Sweet Maple from Mountie's Duty - HEAL!
I'll let you Rest now. And Mum take over
To Pepper your Dreams on Light's recover.
#beccajayden
So ends the Drama locked into your Bronze
Nike kisses you and shows you her ****
Who, despite Angry Lads, live Life's Beyond
Now Married are you to Testimony
I guess you will survive the Afterthought
Of Promos and Parcels you will not Resist
The Wheel turns again; And in your Forenaught
Honest Advices refuse to make a Fist
You have this Resume of Deaf-Record,
Partial to Characters you do not Like
Even if they ask Penance for your Accord
Your Self-Righteousness slaps them in-spite.
What's the use? Your Friends will come to your Defense
Even if an Ant like me Stings to make Sense.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
From whence we tip to toast the Cocktail new
Too pricey for a Sip, if you ask me
Still, those Pubbers demand your Freshest Brew
Either for Show or Truest Cheers that be
Now who composed the Price which I complain
May rob my Wages on half-month's budget?
You have Defense, though: Is that my Domain
To liver that Sign out of my Pocket?
I suppose either way Purchased or not
Those Senses concerned will take no Notice
With Baskets fare, Bread and Butter forgot
Mix the Lager still Best Friends acquiesce.
The Currant still topped, which to Celebrate
Ignore the Side-Bugs; Light the Good Debate.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
It's Funny how such Energy persist
When the Fourth Great Angel told me to Prud,
Staking Green Papers for her to insist
And see whether I behave or becrud
Even when the Situation intensed
By the Fallen One a Coward-for-Words
She took the Shield; And gave a Good Defense,
Plucking Feathers dearly in Screams they heard
You are the Heroine mostly Admire
In Duty latest Feelings compensate
Seven Wings drop by, waiting for Desire,
The Good Kind which all Good Women must take.
Wait for the other Four whilst keeping Knots
As the Boy in Blue Trunks took his Time forgot.
#daleysangels #hola_itsbecky
Christian Ek Jul 2014
The band starts playing at a ***** and crowded backyard.
Rebellious youth gather to cast their vote with the stomping of their doc martin boots.
Beer cans everywhere, everyone's trying to let loose the raw stranglehold their society has produced.
The guitars go off and the ritual begins.
First they assemble in the heart of the pit.
In the center individual tragedies bring fourth the wrath of a God's army.
Anarchy you call it, Ha! I call it reassurance, reassurance that this anger is surely communal.

I never saw it more clearer, the youth's power to resist: If the government wont hear us, we will create our own sound even under the batons of fascism, we spit on your rule, your control of our art.

We wont bow down to a law with our names written all over it, while another politician walks free from corruption.
While another officer guns down an un armed child and calls it self-defense.
While suspicious mass shootings continue to occur and mass cameras grow in recording.
While you send more people off to war for another countries resources.
These thoughts explode out of me into shoves, screams, ****** cuts, reckless behavior, and then finally release. Pure psychiatric release.
Caroline Jun 2017
“The eagles should have been far seeing”
Was the last apocalyptic note she wrote
In her broken and trembling hand
Words that I tried so hard to understand.

What eagles? What sight could they have beheld
That might have brought back to her
A reasoned light to illustrate
Something other than her tortured mind
Worn fragile and thin by monsters,
Who starved, and beat, and *****,
A child.

Or would these brave and noble birds
Have donned armor in her defense
Flocking in hordes to peck out the eyes
Of those so vile that they would welcome,
Just to destroy,
The spirit of a foster child.  

Or did these eagles nest inside her ****,
As like a sweet salvation,
My spirit bloomed
For them to lift on soaring, golden wings,
And place gently in her arms,
A child more precious than the moon,
And all its diamond light,
Since in my tiny form she found the strength
To chase away the memories;
To hold back a schizophrenic night.

So, it was these birds who were short of sight,
Who gave a gift and flew away.
Abandoned in her time of need,
Her mind crumbling from the weight
Of something from which she was never, truly free,
And though we tried so hard to save her,
No one was strong enough;
Not even me.
Eight years ago, I lost my mom to suicide. After a long battle with a form of late-onset schizophrenia, and also, the effects of a terrible childhood, I feel like she just couldn't fight anymore. The last note she wrote to me didn't make much sense on the surface, but I find deeper meaning in it. She loved me more than all the stars in the sky and I miss her just as much.
Nothing turns this angel down
Excellence, in the flesh
And if they try, an evening gown
In satin works the best

Is beauty deeper than the skin?
Surely she'll impress
Instead of showing what's within
She forces you to guess

Eyes of gold been tarnished brown
By tears that have been wept
Dark and shining locks abound
Make up for shades not kept

Sin runs red in times of blue
Every angel's seen
Temptation's there to carry you
When you have lost your wings

Consider but the outside shell
For that is most well-known
Appearing to be straight from ****
To garnish feelings shown

How could she be so mean, you ask?
What makes her be so spiteful?
Why can't she see it's not a mask
That makes her feel delightful?

Lies frozen, held through time
In silent desperation
Hiding at the scene of the crime
A ****** confrontation

To free the memories from her head
Would unleash such a fear
She'd rather end the night instead
As not to feel him near

Ah, here's the one; the big bad wolf
That's haunted all her dreams
Whom proved too well by wearing wool
All are not as they seem

But I am ****, but skin and fur
And showing her my core
And telling her the parts that hurt
While donning nothing more

He's changed her mind, she's cast astray
But I could be the shepherd
To keep the hungry wolves at bay
As countless dogs endeavored

One light can only shine so much
Before the flame has died
To reignite it just a touch
Of love might satisfy

Surely there is nothing worse
Than feeling left to dry
Entrapped within a lover's curse
And never knowing why

Well, in defense of self-defense
I must admit it's snide
To hang her face upon the fence
Until she's picked a side

It's safe, my friend, just be yourself
***** down to nothing hidden
And let emotion feed your health
By eating the forbidden

A heart must be coaxed from its hide
With tenderness and passion
In order for the passersby
To notice what has happened

From way out here it's hard to tell
But underneath a soul
That liberates a girl of twelve
Longs for a soul to hold

To hold would mean to carry, too
When harsh times rear their heads
To be the one to follow through
When love needs to be fed

But most of all it means to dress
With confidence or loathing
Just make sure you can impress
A saint in Sinner's clothing
Brain pictures
Doug Miura Aug 2018
An attack every 3 seconds
1.5 rapes a minute
"It's not going to happen to me!"
Your thoughts too?
Don't prepare
Are you ******?
Ask yourself
Is that me?

A person attacked every 3 seconds, 1.3 rapes per minute! Muggers scan the crowds watching for aimless wanderers dressed well. Someone that is not paying attention to his or her surroundings that isolates themselves in an alley or parking lot becomes a target. Parking a van next to a woman’s car and having her help his disabled self was how serial killer Ted Bundy abducted his scores of victims. Get in through the passenger side or have someone walk to your car with you if see a van next to your car. If you think this is being paranoid then you may end up dead! Criminals scan parking lots for women sitting in their cars. In parking lots buckle up and go or make the headlines!  Victims & support, 1/10 prosecutes and recover almost over-night; because prosecution win or lose makes you feel like you didn't just take ****. Visit rainn.org to chat one on one with a trained RAINN support specialist any time 24/7. 78% of rapes were by someone victims trusted! Avoid humiliating men. 1.3 rapes per minute! If on the street avoiding attacks is best. Be very vigilant, 9/10 attacks from behind. Always walk against traffic and watch for stalkers in cars. If threatened I put my hand into my coat pocket and say, “I have a gun!”  It stops even multiple attackers but watch for hidden assailants.

If an attacker grabs your arm, quickly twist it towards his thumb, while using your arm against his thumb. Immense attackers simultaneously jab your held arm’s elbow at him and the leveraged movement frees you. Get it right and your wrist will be free easily. If you see a punch coming aimed at your face, bend your head down so he'll break his hand hitting the top of your head. You can also bend your elbow and use the shield formed to block blows. Surprise counter-attack! Press thumb against four fingers, hard, and you have the Kung Fu "Crane." Jab or swipe it quickly at your attacker’s eye, hard! If jabbing aim through your target, at the back of his head so when he pulls back you get his eye. Strike the front of neck, kidneys, *****, and stomach. Kick no higher than knees or he’ll grab your foot! Attack! Attack! Attack! Crowd him so he can’t hit you well, & weak points are vulnerable! Smash with your head, if you somehow miss. When his head goes back, crush his ***** or throat hard. Scream, "Fire! Fire!" and doors will open! "Police!" only, people hide! Yell “Call 911 Call 911!” and sirens will make him run! If you have to stab him, say you thought he had a weapon or he’ll say you attacked him, & you go to jail! Rely on yourself in emergencies! Be sure and call 911 first! 2nd caller goes to jail! Police will not listen to the 2nd caller! Date safety: Meet your date at the place you’re going. Don’t allow isolation or let him drive or he could take you somewhere to **** you. Practice hard until instinctive or this won’t work! If you have been ***** the only thing that will work is a gun but saying, “I have a gun!” has always worked for me.

Tasers work against most but are only 60% effective against drunks & druggies.

If you see a stalker don't go home! They are seeking your house so the can break in when you’re gone and ambush you. 50% ***** at home. “I'll go with you to protect you" a ****** lie! To train for powerful self-defense hang a short chain with a 35-pound punching bag from a beam in the garage. Strong rubber holds it to a wheel and tire resting on the ground. Use leather gloves on your hands and for power put weight behind punches to hit the bag and make it swing away. Block punches with your arm bent like a shield and practice with a partner with boxing gloves & protective gear to make you both strong.  

Search self-defense videos for excellent demonstrations.

©Doug Miura May be copied for private use and not for publication.
Self-defense Training
Scarlet McCall Feb 2017
They came for us with tanks and guns.
We stood our ground—the old and young.
All our troops had mustered round
our Capital--Sacramento town.
A New Republic, we’d declared,
and its defense,
among all would be shared.
With the Bear Flag flying high
we all came to fight and die.
Young men in their combat boots
repelled the dictator’s first wave of troops.
Civilians came from South and North
to resist the fascist ruler’s force.
From Frisco and from San Jose,
from San Diego and L.A.,
from Calistoga and Marin,
thousands had come pouring in.
Then US bombers burned the city,
for the orange Fuhrer had no pity.
They won the battle, but we all know
from history, how these things go.
An occupation cannot last
against a people whose strength holds fast.
The tyrant’s troops will tire, while we
will fight on, until we’re free.
It's inevitable. We aren't all the same country anymore. A country of 300 million cannot be a democracy. California has more than 30 million people and can grow its own food. Why would they stay?
Honesty the lost art/
  Honesty is rare
it should cost a lot/
  It would be sublime if
We could find it/
  Honestly, honesty is the best policy/
We should treasure the
thought cherished engulfed/
  combined with
Loyalty
  till death do us part/
I yurn
The lies tiring
  like ones sleepy
lay down Suffocating to a corpse/
  Thought is boss
employ by it
  We're all guilty I guess/
Liar liar in court
  A sentient being-ness/
Troth be told
  I can't believe in this/
Question,
  Am I the only one seeing this?/
Or only me blind and ain't            Seeing ****/
  I try and **** it out
its epidemic, Chronic/
The remedy Poetry Hop
   Visual Sonnets/
**** ***** in
  My correspondence/
Articulating articles
  Waiting for responses/
Is it a defense mechanism
  Of the conscious/
Honesty? Honestly/
  Seems like everyone's
Not doing it so its gotta BE/
  Non honesty
The ever lasting Prophecy/
  And were full filling it
The good succumbs
  To the villainous/
My willingness/
  To compromise my will
I guess/
  You could interpret as weak/
Most realize
the Inside scoop
  Yet everyone tells lies
non interested in truth/
  Me, a victim and a suspect
An on going cycle yet/
  I ask what's next/
as if I didn't know
   Where the L lies underlying Facts can't grow/
  HonestLy, we all lose an L to Honesty!
Joel A Doetsch Feb 2017
It starts with a tickle to my heart
tries to gently push my lips apart

I resist, much to it's consternation,
not giving in to it's polite provocation

It bounces around in my brain, so distracting!
Ever so slowly I feel my discipline cracking

My heart starts to race, my eyes turn to steel
I must stand my ground!  I simply can't yield!

You look into my eyes
sigh
my last defense broken...
How could I ever have stopped these words being spoken?

I love you
.
When you say "I love you" far too much and try to hold it back from time to time
Kara Jean May 2016
Toughness is my warm gooey love
Isolation is the only defense I've developed
I keep reminding myself this is it
My passion never existed
An urge deep frying my mind
My fingers tingling
My heart throbs
My throat suffocating
The words telling me to discontinue have melted into sweet nothings
I'm a *** drive with no destination
A complicated disastrous women
My feet turned to charcoal long ago
I haven't blink in a lifetime
My burnt sunglasses situated against my broken nose
My high waisted skirt accentuates my fate
Perfect, is a pretty ******* explicit world to create
Please no holding the insane
Back away slowly
She's always hoping to bite
Taking chunks of your pride
rook Jan 2017
for autumn's leaves have fallen much too soon
and i, without my eyes to see the clear
brilliance of the sun, the stars, and moon
can still make out what the heavens brought near

the warmth of heaven's gift i feel fornenst
i hear the sound true emotion does bring
my heart, it breaks through its final defense
and on the ice first does this new love sing

what spell's been wrought to bring me to my knees?
what magic has your presence on me cast
to turn me from my abhorrence of he
to lover's gaze which alienates the past

And sooner would I cast myself to flame
Then dare confess when you won't feel the same.
Cné Jan 2018
years ago
i was consumed
in the deep abyss of depression.
i had been there before
and had always managed
to dig my way out.
but this time i got lost
in a maze, each turn dragging me further
into ****.

so many unresolved thoughts plagued
the chasm of my mind.
i wanted to die,
not to **** myself,
for i couldn't be that selfish
to hurt my family in that way.
but i prayed selfishly
to be put out of my misery.
a prayer i felt unanswered
for months on end.
i tried to hide
this darkness
from those closest to me,
isolating myself.

in a defense mechanism sarcastic tone,
i smirked to a friend
that all i really wanted
was peace.
she encouraged me to pray.
i responded honestly,
"i'm not sure prayer works for me
because i've lost faith."

as if God only answers to those with faith.
she told me
that i might need to see results to believe
but that i should
give it a shot anyway
and stick with it.
i brushed it off.

the next morning,
i woke up with my normal
(worse than normal, at that time)
negative thoughts, you're ****, fat, unworthy ...
(that's the censored, more kind version of my thoughts)
to which i argued in my head,
be kind.
silly i know.
then my friend's words resonated
"give it a shot."
so i quickly prayed a simple prayer for peace
in my mind, body and in my soul.
of course, i didn't feel any different at the time,
but i drug my heavy laden body out of bed.
forced myself to workout and went to work.

my first client that day was new to me.
hiding behind my work mask,
i presented myself professional
with my usual introduction.
she returned the favor
with a look of odd fascination.
so i continued with
"have i worked on you before?"
hoping i hadn't absentmindedly
not recognized a former client.
she responded "no, but you are Liz, right?"
i confirmed and proceeded to my room.
after scoping out the surroundings,
she commented on one of my paintings
on the wall, of an Angel.
it's an abstract.
some people don't see it.
then she asked ...
if i was a believer.
caught off guard
i responded "excuse me?"
she said, "do you believe in Jesus?"
not accusatory or even with aggression,
but a simple question, with dancing eyes.
i said, yes, more out of fear,
with my current frame of mind, at the time.
i was fragile and trying desperately
to hold it together.

i left her to ready herself for therapy
and took the opportunity
to regain my composure,
securing my guarded mask.
when i began therapy
she sighed and said
"i felt in my heart
that you were the right therapist for me,
because i can feel your kind heart."

i asked "did someone refer you to me?"
with suspicion, and narrowed eyes.  
she responded "no. Jesus gave me your name."
she told me how she relied heavily on prayer
and that brought her to see me.
i **** you not.
i brushed off her words
as any sane
(even in depression)
person would.

she was not easy to work
as a large body
that was hard as stone.
but my thoughts began to shift,
i swallowed an emotional lump in my throat.
in that moment, i realized,
i felt privileged to be working on her,
for her to have sought me out
on a quest from Jesus, or so she believed.
a peace i'd never experienced before
washed over me, cleansed me, anointed me.
in that moment, i felt clean, light.

afterward she gave me a huge hug
with an exaggerated pause
and whispered in my ear,
that prayer was the only reason
she was alive.
it felt like no other hug i'd received before,
so tender, sweet and sincere.
so i asked myself
"was this a sign?"

from that day forward,
i found my way back.
navigating the maze.
it didn't happen all at once
but each step, each turn
lead me out of the abyss of darkness
and toward the light of harmony and peace.
and though, i still slip occasionally,
i recall that spiritual experience.
this happened. i don't consider myself and a religious person but i would say i am spiritual.  i don't share this experience often because had it not happened to me, i wouldn't believe it. i share it now in hopes that someone who is lost, isolated, hurt, in pain, and in the grips of darkness, might believe it possible to find their way out.
Steve Page Apr 2017
Remember to think better,
think further,
think deeper
and with vigour.
Pepper your remember
with colour,
with light,
with friends who delight.
Boost your remember
with story,
with histories,
with cramped group selfies.
And remember your remembers
whenever,
wherever
you drift off centre.
And there you'll discover
your defenders,
your never surrenders
against all contenders.
Then you'll remember
your forevers.
Remember -
it's your best self defense.
Remember.  It's the best self defense.
Lizzy Nov 2016
I don't want to be this way,
Scared and on edge,
With my heart
And my mind
Locked far away.

But what can I do?
I'm battling with
Logic and love
All while trying not to bleed
In front of you.

I'm sorry
That I'm not brave enough,
I'm not strong enough,
To leave behind
My defense mechanisms.

But if you just stay,
Maybe soon I'll stop
Being so afraid
Of what I have to say.  

If you keep holding me,
Maybe the chains
That bind me
To this weight of fear
Will dissolve slowly.

If you keep loving me,
I'll rip my heart out
And let you keep it.
Sorry if that's too gory.

Please keep loving me,
Because I can feel
The darkness
Beginning to recede.
I can feel myself
Opening to the love
I've been dying to receive.
Kara Jean Dec 2016
She thought she had it;
Significance

Muddy dress, an outfit depressed

The sunshine blinds

A use for her view

Then realistic features come walking in

Scolded shoulders tower over

Her fishnets and black lipstick hide her
mildewed heart

She fights

Fighting submerged her feelings

Numbing the pain she became hate

Hate became her soul

A control

A defense

A way to save her from death

To bad the devil has a toll

A fee

He envies ****
Robert Ronnow Nov 2017
What luxury to get mad
about last night's basketball loss
and watch the full moon descending
at the speed the earth turns.

Things could get worse
personally and for the community.
Bombings, killings, anomie
boiling frogs and witches cursing.

The changing climate,
typhoons in the Philippines,
volcanoes and tsunamis, WWII which I missed,
Thanksgiving nor'easter, Easter twister.

What abundance to fast or feast,
yr choice, stay inside by the stove
or go outside, climb the mountainside.
Live in a city or small town.

So I raged at the coaches
for their lazy zone defense
like an alien in the bleachers
unable to affect the outcome.

When my sons came home
I yelled at them too. What opulence
to be angry about nothing of consequence
neither stopped by the cops nor slipped on the ice.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Bison Jun 2016
Sing to the future
Pray for the past
All wounds desiring sutures
Seldom last

Discord and harmony
Now dance entwined
With echoes of foreign leaves
Backless black dress bares no spine

Revel and rebel rouse
Clothe yourself
Cover those doubts
Dust layered pride wastes on the shelf

To hate do no acquiesce
If I am to be an ***
May I be the jackiest
But this too shall pass

On Earth there may be Heaven
But I'm only seeking Nirvana
I wish Vonnegut woulda wrote Slaughterhouse Seven
A sequel concerning the most enlightened Lama

Call me the animated corpse
Watercolor and colored pencil pallor
Washed out caffeinated ******
Drawn lips and cheeks painted all sour

Crème de la cream
Whipped froth to more than tooth sweet
Gobble up that American hayfever dream
Make me out to be the biggest diabete

This self defense
Of building fences
Won't ease teasing tensions

I'd stand up, tall and high,
for myself but I
I can't find my feet for a honeysuckle punch of sky
Robert Ronnow Mar 2017
Beautiful summer day. You know you're gonna die
that's why you know no joy.
Obsessed with self, there is no answer
unless religion, tv, stories, sports matter.
So what if nothing rhymes and I don't
bring my life into an expressible state
or fight purposelessness, anomie. No one writes.
Running the gauntlet alone. A good day to die, the Apaches say.

For men like us dying's easy, it's living that's hard.
And since dying's much like living, that's hard too.
There's some contentment in letting community decide
your place in it. We're not talking to you.
Really, it's a perfect day. Every leaf is out
that's coming out. The grass is high
and unidentified yet another year. Being knowledgeable
is the best defense against your insignificance.

Can't stop the quince from blossoming
or my sons from smoking, speeding.
The best that can be done or said's a blessing.
Less tv, less guessing
about the effects of your anger unless
you want to be an angry man forever.
Coming from the funeral with friends,
talking on the telephone. OK about being alone.

Alive, almost sure of it. Whether I'm a visitor
to my life or the actual owner.
Mature poets steal, most are masturbators.
This house could use a good cleaning,
dusting for ghosts. I should subscribe
to the local newspaper, do my job well,
do less until one thing's done well.
What would that be? Old, and yet so young.

There are a million poets, I'm poet #500K.
Plenty of mysteries, infinite philosophies,
prayers, laws and unwritten rules.
That's why we go to school, life's complicated.
All I do not know: ATP, probabilities,
the glorious revolution, meiosis and mitosis
and all I'll never see, the bottom of the ocean,
the palm at the end of the mind, a wolverine.

There are certain indicators, undeniable,
inexorable. Forget-me-not, is that all I want?
To get lucky, you gotta be careful first.
To be great, you gotta be willing to sound BAD.
Although we cannot make the sun stand still
yet will we make him run. Brave revelers.
Signed engagement letter attached.
Attachment to self and to things to do.
--with a line by Andrew Marvell

www.ronnowpoetry.com
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