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Edward Coles Apr 2013
My inner child,

Recently I have found myself crawling through those hazy archives of my past, when it was only you and the dirt on those endless afternoons. And I wonder to myself how much of these memories truly exist and how many blanks I may have filled in along the way. I try to formulate a hypothesis on this but my mind is preoccupied with the image of the mound of soil at the back of the garden. The one our sister swore was a buried lion – a truth you swallowed so readily. Since then you have moved house and dug a grave for the lion yourself, only this one was your best friend.

We have drifted you and I. I rarely see you. Sometimes in the midst of pills and drink I swear we cross paths but soon my heart thuds heavily and I do my best to just keep my feet and then you’re gone. I am now just a composite of lessons learnt and punishments served. A sum of all the times I broke a heart, failed a class and tripped on a stone. I look ahead to adulthood – I know we never believed we’d get there - we never needed to, but here we are. I don’t wear a suit, I don’t drive a car and I have no money. Beards don’t suit me and as things stand, it is unlikely I will become Batman. I would tell you that we’re not a failure – that I’m not a failure but the world tells us differently. We need a real career.

It is a tired cliché admittedly, but I do miss your innocence – your boundless inquisition into everything about you. The incessant inquisition still remains, but the plague of indoctrination-education and the scorn on your school friends soon puts up borders in your mind. You soon realise which questions are stupid, even if they are right to be asked. Cleverness soon becomes more than being able to tie your shoes. You must be strong, you must be brave, you must be ruthless.

I think back to how much we loved our mother and how it hurts now, to see her ignorance and her emotional frailty for all that it is. The day when your mother becomes human is truthfully one of the most frightening days to experience. Still, for you, those wonderful April shower mornings in the park are a refuge. Feast on those sandwiches, huddle together under the shelter of the slide and listen placidly to the rain hit the metal. Do not think for a moment of what needs to be done or what has been done. Live in the present before you get lost the cogs of causation.

Learn to fall in love. Not just with people but with animals. With words, with pictures, with colours and tones. Textures, sounds and imagery. Please never lose the wonder of lying in the grass and seeing a separate world. I know you don’t understand beauty, perhaps because you are beauty within itself. Perhaps only I can understand beauty because mine has been lost through these fatherless years of self-effacing thoughts and relentless hangovers. Perhaps it is only now that I grasp for beauty, in order to claw back some of what I have lost. Just to taste it again.

I wont keep you for much longer. I know you need to run and yell and play until the sun falls. I simply wanted to tell you that I love you. You are what I love about me, despite what may have been lost in the classrooms. I know now that I should get my head out of the screen and cast my eyes beyond my bank balance, so that I can see you in the distance and greet you as a friend. My old friend. I hope I get to see more of you after writing this, because I miss you and my brain is sometimes just so loud and I think you might be the only thing to quieten it. I am going to fall into bed and sleep dreamlessly under the covers now. If nothing else, I promise you that as you grow older, you will look forward to bed time!

Yours in complete awe,

A very confused person.
Audrey Howitt Feb 2012
the harmony of discordant tunes

infiltrates mind

closed to thought

strewn against wind

in the onslaught of scattered

steely voices

attuned to this one alone

messages of self-loathing

that medication covers over

the bandage merely adequate

a stale, small blanket

wooley

euthanize thought

unapologetically strident

so that this one

can finally

sleep

dreamlessly
Written for those who I know who hear voices

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012
Daisy King Oct 2013
When the crowds started their own Kristallnact
in the big smoke, it seemed Smaller
when tracing danger zones on maps, more and more
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx-
(Warning, X marks the spots that are burning)
It was a stampede of hooves money was lost on,
shattering windows and smashing streetlamps
and all the same, shrubs and roses were stormed on.
The horses don't have names anymore.
There are beings almost human
trapped in hospitals, trapped inside the women
not yet hampered by the world,
and those who created the women,
three decades before, sometimes
only a dozen years ago, somehow
still waiting and still wanting
another human being to be born.
If I could dream, I'd dance in my sleep,
but I am in the same stillness,
in the same uniform,
in search of footprints to follow,
for hunger, for scorn,
for dying flowers and an unknowable moon,
and the babies now laughing
and terrified and bored and the good ones
who fell in love with the wrong ones
or had too much, of the good or bad, too soon.
The only secret I've been let in on
is that it's the same when you die
as it was when you were born, but
all of a sudden, something small
in the churches and their clocktower clouds,
in the wires of a telephone,
in laughter in the sun,
is enough to allow sleep to come,
dreamlessly but peacefully,
inside knowing that even if we feel alone
we will always belong
to everything, everybody, everyone.
.


Snips & snails & midnight shadows unaware--

...the soft flesh of wildflowers tremble
in the blistering wind.

Slowly shifting their tattered reflection...
Twilight fire, painted angels
bleeding dreamlessly.

A perfect stranger
melts like a million echoes ground into dust.
Eternity glowed like a falling moonstone.

Girl's souls
really are sugar and spice...







.
Tara India Nov 2013
no abnormal  amount of sleep could cure
the tiredness that rests inside my bones
fatigue fills the hollow cage that
dreamlessly becomes my hellish home

no obscene quantity of food could satiate
the hunger residing in my soul
my heart is empty, craving for something
adventure, fire, or the great unknown

no blinding light could truly dim
the shadow living inside my mind
whose darkness overthrows all I do
drowns my pleasure in endless night

no sins of the flesh and gloried closeness
could still my desire for intimacy
to just be held, finally feel wanted
and like I mean the world to somebody

*© Tara India.
Dani Jun 2013
How do eyes
hide lies
How do eyes
paint the disguise
You wear so seamlessly
You  whisper words of
forever so dreamlessly
But naive
I
will
buy
it all
and fall
and fall

Deeper into this
picture perfect wonderland
I will have this
fairytale overrated brand
Of what it is to be
in heart racing
Butterfly inducing
Stu-stuh-stutterr causing lo-luh-lust
Because everyone knows
that wide eyed girl
Lost
in
her curiosity
Who wandered astray
and came upon
your animosity.
Jeanette Mar 2014
I pass the places we were
one year ago today
not purposely,
it's just that my Gods seem
to have an ill sense of humor.

Walking slowly, numbly, dreamlessly around
a blinking city
that refuses to belong to me
ever again.

With every step kicking up clouds of dirt
in form of awkward memories
from not too long ago
that feel like a hazy far away dream.
it is easier to pretend they were merely that.
Reality is much harder to accept.

Bright Cakes with soft candle light
that graced your brow.
And I find myself hoping and wishing
I didn't know that you were doing so well,

if so...I'd be able to lie to myself
and imagine that you think of me
a little sometimes.

I hope you found what you wanted,
what you relentlessly worked so hard for.

Happy Birthday.
this is one of the first poems I ever wrote, after my first love and I broke up. I though it would be appropriate to repost being that tomorrow is the Ides of March .
Kristen Apr 2013
My whole life
I lived amidst chaos,
emotional roller coasters,
and confusion.
I lived in silent grudges,
violent outbursts,
and self mutilation.
I lived in motion,
never calm,
always packing.
I lived in two homes
each broken
always conflicted and lonely.
I pleaded with my sanity,
begged for release,
and drank for a moments ease.
I submitted to labels...
like victim...
unfortunate...
suicidal...
I fought nightmares,
hatred,
and sick obsession.
But now....

I'm older now...
I live with a yapping dog
and two annoying cats.
I have chores
that don't seem so daunting
and bills I am almost elated to pay
I sit in silence now,
stretching for yoga
and meditating.
I find my greatest stresses
are finally things like
finals week
and cold tea.
I could cry daily,
in silent testimony,
and sometimes violently,
FOR JOY,
not darkness.
I can breathe easily
and sleep dreamlessly.
I have never been so happy.
I have never been so at peace.
I have never been so able
just to be.
Ken Pepiton May 2023
as I nearly slept, I nearly
rolled over in my bed, did not,
folded my hands, slumbered on
dreamlessly imagining signals hmmms
Massive
low
notes, accepted as receptible
by my phone with no reply request
acknowledge
accusatory story…, here, I see, okeh

Each sapien sapience, from the womb,
to final dust, despite the mounds of mud,

and opera, werks, shunning sweat,
rear up any child in the way one wishes
that child to grow, see, noble king
one must see those things one wishes
were true,
then rule,
be the head of state itself, the wedom
of all the subjective class, objects
deemed worthless but by thy
grrrace, grunting there is a hell. there is, there is
as it is said Christians must believe,
having as one prays, even now,
those needs, cast off all care,
imagine all debts, all paid,
no offering to prove it
needed, only be
left to see your own way, open eyes, a bitter taste,
aftertaste of wisdom, used as in a spirtual duel,
with a passle of powerful fools, unaware
of the rules, anointed, by truth, dare
prove all things, challenge
the persuader, offer bitter herbs with salt.
Salivate conditioned reflex,
some day all your enemies
feel your own self made up form of love,
and that loving burns their evil minds,
to useful illuminosity, before
catch, grip. holf if, see
ante-cipitates, make each look up,
pledge the believers every day,
good
to go,
so in time, as stages pass,
one knows, this is what my hand
has found to do.

In your service dear reader, thus far,
in our momentary now reality,
between our shared unreal pasts,
in the bubble of we, the people of earth,
attempting to buy the world a coke,
since a certain series of orange acid
during February and March, 1970-
- Chicago. Kesey and Wolfe
- fine weather, for a few days in March

ping vid mind adapts, yes, we re
member seeing something so close
to that exact day at that exact spot,
and the weather
was way worse.

but then I he(a)rd the songs of Mao,
being mys-tried, re sung once more as if
each line was free of debt to Lao Tze
no wei, no secret sacrosanction.
dedeMao, now.
b'n ice geeye ai ai - feel the power
lust right, the drill
will to…
w8
Impulse to cut and run, see a message,
make it stick to the bumper of your cat. Cat.
Tell the world what you are
catalogical,
sorted by did you not wish you knew
rearview, how much of that
do you know,
do you know once, we remember

I did, feel a signal, listen,
think I speak mammoth, listen

in fact, we all did, at the time,
we project that as impossible to prove\
reproof of construe-ition is the way of life
instruction in right use, upgrade scales
praxis co-knowing our each selfish in a
we as a wedom, awesome
by the way life lingers
on topological math,
see,
below the actual band width
of light, white
in the middle see the bones
of the bits, those are from stars,
photons ping touch /percepticons
see-ing
opposition in the future, met today,
hey hey hey
tell me what I say,
that ain't no way to pray,
I done said to each, ever lasting
misconcieved grand spirit of a movement
when the guts of goodnessakesknowswhat
is clogged in curses,
generational debt,
the ruler mind set,
to rob the rich, I was led,
daily I watched the Adventures
of Robin Hood, while I only saw Dragnet
once each week,
ethics of each occur in all boomers, as a wedom,
the first generation born after 1945,
sorted by standardized Dewey measures
of progress. toward becoming
community minded boys and girls,
destined to bring tomorrow by conforming
to the systematized sorting, grading on math
and language arts, then history and science,
then juris prudence for civilians, duty,
- team player drills daily, 40 minutes,
- extracurricular activity choices, weighed

current deception opens green receptors
for signals
to me sent, presently as a gift,
from the queen
of the south.

We assume the idea of gifts, tributes
to k'ki'kn'no'ings, legendary models,
magi conquerors who kept the roads free
of theives and babblers
of goodness only, used as sacramental
kindness made sacred,
bidding you have a mighty fine day.

- is that the Power Farm?
- Circa 1989, HyperCard, crazy easy coding.
- But not so easy as now, finally, harmony,
- knowledge was never what divided
- truth from multitudes of witnesses,
- globally aware more mass shooting than days
- to share with former saints in 2023, so far…
All ye
Religious spirits, little impulsive crossing, muttering
thankyou to the unknown god, higher power, el ultimo.

You know, Wisdom herself, given her due, trueee baby,
too true, knowledge is power, wisdom is might,
stand up, right, perpindicular to the true balance,
prepared, made ready to use thoughts abound,
and turn you around
on a low pressure gyre, rolling up Tornado Alley,
as you imagine it all connects.

It's that hard rain, the poets called,
a seeing from the old'ns,
son, ya got a good eye,

never hesitate to wink, and think, I can see,
should I ever need to give up an eye
for my life's comfortable ends, in mind, my
days of rest --ha, these, after a spectacular

reexamination of metaphors filled with crud,
as seen in plastic sacks of potatoes,
left to sprout and rot, in the dark,
not the slightest snakey lick
of seeing with infra-red, in your head, augmental
conjoining
click… serious speed of recognition instant
cognosis,
we both know, like in a Romcom, how- to movie,
shaping mindsets to put on while in rut.

Historically Christian Nationalist Roots, Cowboy way,
circa the informational slots we slipped by, ran away,

one bought a carnival, one bought charisma seeking,
one bought a vision
through the future to right now. Eh.

How oft must one reset such knowns as nouns,
and names of action words, love, fear, hate, lie, die

Did your mindset bid you challenge

Since 2016, I have my word, I swore, with fervor,
once more eternal hostility
to any form
of tyranny {outside-will control} ever imposed
upon the mind
of mankind, wombed or un, however we be
physically, there is none of that in Christ,
believe your rules of rights use.
Examine the faith that being apes,
who could signal names of things, Adamkind,
pre functional womb model.

He could name things, he could not make babies.
Adamkind, warrior breeds from olden days,
such as fight to entertain the mob in waiting,
fans for flames, founders kenning use
of passionate inflamation to provoke
good works, in the mind of the mob,

vicarious sons of deceiving reasons, come
to call my use of faith proves nothing real.

There are made men using God's name, in vain,
eh, it never works, but it is their religious duty
to think kingly, eh,
too ghuckingoodforoneself, we, Trumpians.
We believe,
we never imagine a war we can't make.

Or a set of actual conspiratorial winds,
with names, familiar spirits, returning winds,
infested with Saharan dust, where once were lush
gardens, back when Greenland was green,
or, so I heard/

Bham harumpharump feel the answer,
pick up the combover, so cool, no care, unaware,

- exposed to the expert in this warfare,
- symbolic marvelous armour,
- for pulling down strongholds, castles,
- silicon solid state preservation cast away
- war in the spirit with historical daemons,
- meeting the neo-Manicheans, word for word…
Ai ai, sir, yessir.
We won a mindtimespace precedent mind state writ,
with the entire child of Arpanet, my second wit,
ready writer motto,
use knowledge right, criticize your story,
sift solidity through cellular security,
finest flakes of self assurance, shine
on
and on as
knowns evil or good.. only the priest can call
foul or fair, there,
excuse you, lawyer
for the defense that there is no vicarage, no live
embodiment
of the intercessor between,
truth's way through life,
and the common dominion
of a certainty,
Your MOTHER IS
BY GOD, ALL CURSES, SHE's

the reason
for your father's rage, generational curses,
daddy wounds,
mommy deprivation, post partum. chaos

love, assuage
woe, soorry, Jesus. But, as has been widely
reported the business
of religion,
by exposing truth
pays a visible wage, shiny smile,
U joint versify,

if we may,
play in the code of life, past any inkling fear
of death,
ducks
in order, will and testament cleared,
read already, ready
to oppose, I suppose, am I.
Logically a state of mind, at the moment.

I callt the efficacy of faith
to call all the outs in.

So we see them on TV, they everywhere,
other people,
OH GOD, why must there be
other people,
oh, my, we may agree,
this answers that,
reasoning, by active faith,
usualized, made common sense.
Why would any sane lover of truth god,
create a forever for enemies of lies?
Belief in spirits opposing truth,
metaphors abound, Kriegspiel on coke,
the real thing, viewers imagine,
watching all the nobles
become naked, and as ugly as any among us.
We see the chins and hairlines in horses,
yet neglect to notice, mustang
herd management, as traits
adjust to new standards,
wild life reset to order.
We realize the riddle,
is the reason, we feel foolish and know it,
U knew, not me, forethought,
morphically resonating
peace, as on a gong
gone
normative,
adjustment bureau wise
sinner's bound in a doctrine
- cut to the gist, there is no sting in death.
- and teaching children to fear death is abuse
- of right authority granted parents
- of loved children, chosen ones, olden days.
Legendary warrior mind, allowed, only if
initiation allows exposure

the daysman lack-
no, look crosswise,'
stripes, whistle, dude
-see, there, the excuse, Job ttalked back.
And Yah, he say, you know, you got that right.
Heysus hisself, look at me he say, I'll go,

become the logical conclusion,
to a story where there was a flaw,
and time threatened to run out, but
the hero, ready to become the tool
to answer a malignant liar with his religion.
Job said to Yah,
you do not know how it feels to put on
a carnal  mind, set by God in Atom's right
to be first
to say this is that…
and one thing leads to another
- you feel the power without knowing
Mysteriously, you,
suddenly seem shy, thinking
how can I say what this is,
you have no right
to say a name Adam did not
say first, we say ****, you say poo,
******* artistic instinkty ways to say, not what
goes in,
corrupts, but what comes out sure can,
that's
gnosishit trustatistical fact according
to science
scent, pre
yours it stinks to, Jesus said.
Brush y'teeth, with Pepsodent to night, be
brite
- visible
knowledge is all good see, so we say we say
good riddle. fit for a king
prone to seek an interpreter of signs and sigils.

A trained cadre of bright boys, as runners,
or senders,
senders using drum and fife, to lead,
trumpet to send, and banners,
to rally round on our side,
whose sigil is that? Do we aid or raid
the edges, scavenge strategy
from the dead.
Live to tell, as I the lone survivor,
I who slew the king at his request, please
believe me
I never steer you to wrong.

Letters flow qwerty wise,
let it happen in the fingers fit to the task,

take a little walk, listen
to a story, sit a while and wish the
enemy were here to enjoy the ease,
beyond the bliss of ignoring,
past the weight worth standing under,
to the home imagined right in time
to finish in December, 2021, one thing
done.

Search any phrase of life, and find answers
to unasked questions, regard-iding lying done
id est as when it is, totally Scriptural moral- wise
right in such a time as once

when some liars who held fast to prophesy
hired the guy who rode the wild ***,
which cognosisadictattenti sorts say
the darnedest things, strecht
stitch in time
Art of Linking Letters, Art Linkletter,
as regular a lunchtime mind flush with a chuckle
and nod at the secrets children can
claim to publicly believe, but ….

the link was to the stay-at-home mom,
not her peer's latch-key kids in allegiance prep,
who get home each day,
for a solo home run heads up on,

who did what on the news, since last night.
Wait, when did Kid Parrett buy the farm,
for more lasting fame than many
in the game, of vicarious triggerers of revenge
reaction, action ready
wha, wham
I a,am sh…za'am is a real rebbiwort, glaubtgut
Jesus
do u read Seuss, still, a quest, mark, take,
leave, ask best bet, take
chance…
look away. Beulah land,
then Beulah see, wise black nanny guide from non-
nodded off, witty, pretty sweety Mary
poppin' clap off pop
stand and deliver, let it be
sistarepistol packin' mama, whoa
Sister,
I did not think to ask, have you been this far? Before?
993 maybe, but the next seven are done. I am stopping, long enough,
to make some money some how... eee-odle eee dee hee,
I may be back again by summer.
jeffrey robin Aug 2010
and
hypnotically

the
Broken Dawn
enters our Dominion
and shatters all Faith

shattered men
walk Broken Streets
and
dreamlessly and hopelessly
continue............
as

the game
being played
repeats and repeats.........

the Killing Images
and Death
...............................continue
in its wake

hypnotically
WE
...............continue

breaking
.........­....or shattering
hoplessly

on
....................Dreamless Streets

Killing and Dying

needlessly
Jeanette Oct 2011
I pass the places we were
one year ago today
not purposely,
it's just that my Gods seem
to have an ill sense of humor.

Walking slowly, numbly, dreamlessly around
a blinking city
that refuses to belong to me
ever again.

With every step kicking up clouds of dirt
in form of awkward memories
from not too long ago
that feel like a hazy far away dream.
it is easier to pretend they were merely that.
Reality is much harder to accept.

Bright Cakes with soft candle light
that graced your brow.
And I find myself hoping and wishing
I didn't know that you were doing so well,

if so...I'd be able to lie to myself
and imagine that you think of me
a little sometimes.

I hope you found what you wanted,
what you relentlessly worked so hard for.

Happy Birthday.
shåi Jun 2018
the sleek
cool marble
chills run
down
the stone
delineations
and curvatures
of fine hands
and legs
white and pure

her eyes
blue
a fountain of youth
i wish i could bathe in it
forever

her blank gaze
from vacant
rolling ball
sockets
falls dreamlessly
into the oblivion

tinkles of music
hum and drone
noiselessly
like spoons
clattering to
the unforgiving ground

her cold heart
exposed
as she reclines,
back arched
ever so slightly

she is without
her soul and mind
the marble
her master
keeps her confined-
her own timeless paradigm
a late night release...
Del Maximo Sep 2017
got locked out today
came home from the grocery store
and couldn’t get in
wandered around
knocking on a couple of doors
looking for help
no one answered
never realized before
that a house without people in it
can be cold as stone
an older couple down the street
let me in and called a locksmith
such gracious, neighborly neighbors

as I sat waiting on my peeling painted porch
on a cool cloudy day
memories burrowed up like a mole
about how I wandered dreamlessly when young
just wanting to survive
thoughts of future shot down
by relative poverty and low self esteem
perhaps it was just delusion
once thinking that I could be anything
I wanted to be

we memorize the ***** and chains
we place on ourselves
like once tethered elephants
never straying from our post
it took a long time to come into me
it took a long time to come to like myself
it took a long time to come to love myself
but at times I still doubted
feeling the pull of my elephant’s chain
the tug of my tether
while wasting away where I stood

finally got myself together
and made plans
it tickles me to think
how I made God laugh
© 08/20/2017
Jemcastspells Apr 2013
2.
Lost in ghastly shadows
Of the pain and suffering
Released from my past
I am shunned, an outcast,
Of the society I once loved
Here I lay in my grave
Sleeping in a dreamless sleep
Here I am here I stay
Dreamlessly ‘til I creep
Out into the night
To prey upon the weak
The young, the beautiful...
Deyer Aug 2013
While you lay asleep and dreaming,
          I sit, conscious,
                             writing and thinking and
                                                                     dreaming.
When you awake to work as the sun rises,
            I lay in bed
      asleep,
                              but not dreaming.
When you work
        and complete all your given tasks with relative ease,
                I dreamlessly rest.
This, so that we may dream at the same time
                                                             about similar things
                                                    and I can trap our dreams in print
                                         always together,
                                                                   harmoniously
                                                                                                       like us.
Bailey King Aug 2017
I am a shell of a girl
Lost in the world
Living through books
Breathing through stories
Thriving through the immortal characters residing in the pages
Losing myself in the poetic melody of pages flipping
Plunging into the abyss of imagination and wonder,
Where I make witty, thoughtful comments,
And have an aura of assurance around me
Assurance of what, I’m not sure
Wishing for adventures I can’t afford
I am a shell of a girl
Lost in the words
Of people come before her
Breathlessly falling
Dreamlessly sleeping
I am a shell of a girl.
thymos Jun 2017
there is a girl lying dreamessly on my chest

her name is every name in history
                                             the forgotten ones especially

her skin is an alloy of time and
                                             meaninglessness

the rest is a dream, the real is somewhere
                                             between two infinite zeros

she sighs out of boredom beneath a sky
                                             of countless stars pretending
                                             they're not already dead

everything came into existence thanks to one sublime
                                             mistake, she says, affectlessly

our connection, our laughter, our fears, our
                                             love, all the ******* without end

and it's been mistakes ever since, less and less
                                             sublime, more and more
                                             disappointing

there is a girl lying dreamlessly on my chest

her eyes are populated with divine absences and
                                              machines that disassemble
                                              the beautiful

her hair is the colour of leaves in autumn bloom
                                              and flows into the sea
                                              of unknowable catastrophe

she laughs like an angel of the end times at
                                              the monuments i made her
                                              out of humanity's greatest ideas

they will not survive the present, she tells me
                                              with gleeful abandon

the more you know about something, the less
                                              real it is, she assures me

and i am inclined to believe her, as our bodies blend
                                              as we remember
                                                              that we are
                                                                   nothing more than functions

                            of heat
Hadrian Veska Dec 2018
The graves we pass are nameless
Weather worn and old
The mausoleums slumber
Dreamlessly to hold
The bones of those before us
Whomever they may be
Beneath the wonderous moon
And weeping willow tree
Ally Sep 2019
Wretched memories dance
Afraid to commit my heart
Dreamlessly dazzling
Maddie May 2022
The crusts of wheat bread
will turn my hair curly.
I believe this
because of Papa Don.
It’s because of him that I believe
in the power of Tex-Mex and the magic
of the Texas Rangers. He loved
both the same, and all nine children
even more. He never forgot the name –
or the First Communion –
of every one of his twenty-three
grandchildren. He loved me from afar,
but every reunion made me feel his love
like it was always up close.

He won’t be at my graduation.

Degenerative heart failure
stole his life before all the Diet Cokes could.
His heart, his heroic heart.

This past Christmas, he fell dreamlessly onto the floor.
Rhys Oct 2020
If dreams are the harbinger of life’s great serenade
then I either spent 20 years deaf or 20 years afraid.
To live our days dreamlessly is to live in grey stained shade
so if you don’t stray from the colours,
you’ll see we’re all brothers
but were asleep in a fevered dream
Tiffany sleeps through cold-hearted darkness that creeps seamlessly
& Tiffany cries sadly in a motel room where she sleeps dreamlessly
Rotten grasses tickled the ***** of grass-growers who rented & sold
old gas mowers while illegally *******' hoes wearin' ragged clothes
These convenient 16-ounce squeeze bottles are perfect for picnics, duck-shoots & waiting in the abortion clinic parking lot for something big to happen.

Our Big Kmart closed suddenly & then manly Bruce Jenner died of
type-2 diabetes while eating a 1976 Olympic-sized box of Wheaties
Tiffany sleeps through cold-hearted darkness that creeps seamlessly
& Tiffany cries sadly in a motel room where she sleeps dreamlessly
Rotten grasses tickled the ***** of grass-growers who rented & sold
old gas mowers while illegally *******' hoes wearin' ragged clothes
in the Taiwan of '45 when hula hags were shot dead in hagged rows
Citified ******* track gentrified binarization after they crap, pop off
the clap, pick a ***, track corn sap, **** a lap-trap, crack a *****-slap
Vietnam succeeded in growing 3 yearly crops of *****-saving rices,
a dozen years after the Fourth Republic of France's May 1958 crisis
I asked, “Hey, Bill, what's hot love all about?” and he replied, “Hot
love is ****-******* Hillary over the sink with her **** hanging out.”
Our Big Kmart closed suddenly & then manly Bruce Jenner died of type-2 diabetes while eating a 1976 Olympic-sized box of Wheaties
Tiffany sleeps through cold-hearted darkness that creeps seamlessly
& Tiffany cries sadly in a motel room where she sleeps dreamlessly

— The End —