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A Paige White Jul 2015
Too much alone
Too much afraid
Too much unknown
Too much paid

To let us go
By the way
For no show
So they say

Could I tell you a story
Ole storyteller
Like bees buzzing flowers
With some honey on hive's mind

It's a modern tale
That has sat sail
All sewn up
At a rate of knots

That black book
Bought with blood money
Dares to say it holds a name
Spar - with these throat barnacles
(Alternately feeding and fighting With their feet)
bowsprit [bee block]
know your ropes, carried away deep six

It's a thieves cat o nine tales
Captain of chewing the fat
Or combing the cat
I've never seen (one) better

Dunnage topping a tonnage
From that trusty barrage
I'm everything on top and nothing handy
An eye splice on a short rope
Given and giving leeway

Haven't got a clew for true whence such hails from

...
So... She measures faces with her heart and hands
And a camera lens for a few
Had to try to study a foreign language and see if it makes sense to those who know it well.
Philip Lawrence May 2017
Do not be saddened by our sullied and blackened shores.
Do not forsake your dream, for the tocsin will always ring
for those unmindful of origin,
who bear convenient constructs, writhen mores,
all weighed by the dunnage of fear.
Or worse.
Strive, persist, and wait and wait and wait
until voices rise and the pendulum descends.
For the lady still shines, clear-eyed and steadfast.
She still wants you, still needs you.
Your soul, your yearning heart.
Sad Girl Jul 13
You treat me so rough
when I beg you for delicate
You say that you love me
but you’re not really selling it

I remember the strength
I once held while celibate
I was a purified flower,
You were loving the smell of it..

But my thorns can be prickly
And I fear you won’t like that
So when you cause pain,
I try hard not to bite back

I love you unconditionally
and though I cannot fight that,
I wish you could see
how it hurts to fall off track

The pain in my foot
is the pain in your back
God sent you a mirror
And that mirror collapsed

If you look at what’s happening
You’ll see that I am you
So it’s not what you want to,
But maybe what you can do.

To reach outside yourself
to care for another
You could learn so much
From the love of a mother

This is what I offer
A new perspective
I know that you’ll see it
You’re very perceptive

I spin you in circles
And we finish our dance
I search for the conditions
They’re there; in your glance.

It’s both of our worst fear,
you won’t speak aloud.
I say all of my thoughts,
As they pass by like clouds.

Some are dark, some shiny, some gray
You only acknowledge them
Only every other day

Make me laugh and perspire,
Push my feelings away
The pain fades temporarily,
Yet the doubtfulness stays

“am I ungrateful”
Or
“Am I being punished”
I ask myself often,
As I sift through the dunnage

I unbury the fear
At the root of it all
I was rising in love,
But beginning to fall

You weren’t willing to catch me
Because you never saw
I tried to speak to you,
But did so, through a wall

Will you love me unconditionally
When you don’t like what you see?
Are you in love with an idea,
Or do you truly love ME.
Edward Alan Feb 2020
You pelted me with sleet
when snow was promised,
leaving marbles scattered
for slipping. A steady hand
held me, so I never fell.

I ground my dunnage and
crockery to tiny bits, sent
them down the frozen creek
to my new home, from one
barren maw to the next.

You throw heat that echoes
into halls green and bright,
like limes taken whole. Or
red light drenches our
blurred smiles, waxy skin.

I wrap my hand as a snake
around your neck, cutting
through damp dead grass,
hungry till the lush certain
spring dawns on us anew.

— The End —