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A lonely child,
child of neglect

I see you.

Night it befalls,
lonely child met..

You meet me.

Peeled round waist from belly to back,
four pieces do a belt of babe make;
stitched and branded.

Lonely child of neglect,
I bathe in your warm fat.

Clouds they roll, stream cotton-frayed sky.
Mother's light peeks to say goodbye, to you;
-the lonely child whom had to die?

I transform.

AWHOOOooo!

eah, hah-hah, hah-hah, hah-hah...

<>...Hunt...<>
          C
The Night Ten to the crescent way,
                   and I'm followin' followin'

Pieces of, -the night or a day,
                 still followin' and followin'

On the Line yeah the sailor's say,
                  Luna come, followin' followin'

And ye-e-eah, ye-e-eah, YEAH! -we're watchin' WATCHIN' -watching every day!

The Night Ten to the crescent way,
                   and I'm followin' followin'

Pieces of, -the night or a day,
                 still followin' and followin'

On the Line yeah the sailor's say,
                  Luna come, followin' followin'

AND IT'S A PLACE OUTS-I-I-I-I-DE, HE'S PLAYING; MR. SHADE!

The Night Ten to the crescent way,
                   and I'm followin' followin'

Pieces of, -the night or a day,
                 still followin' and followin'

On the Line yeah the sailor's say,
                  Luna come, followin' followin'

* AND NO ONE CAN PLAY,
                  -play like Mr. Shade!

The ancients solved Longitudinal navigation by plotting a position against the moon and any one of ten major stars that can be found on the ecliptic at night. Who really believes that four thousand years of moon tablets in Sumer/Shinar are just time tables or astrology?
Nicole Dawn Jun 2015
I'm fine, I say
My fingers crossed

No, really, I'll be
Okay
Truth is for weaklings, right?

Oh that scratch? I'm
Klutzy is all
A little lie is all
Y**eah, okay, maybe I'm not fine
Fah Aug 2013
Birthed from the realms of finite
Exist the twilight purple hue
Bruised , sociocultural views
Congregated
Elevations of the so called unholy mundane , the evocative refrains of the woman's vally
Inexplicably shaped by the hands of men who can know no more what to be a woman feels and it is for a woman to feel what a man is

*** sells . *** sells. What condensed canned factory excuse is this ? *** sells , ah then we must continue to **** eah others minds - yes. That seems apt. Seems reasonable.
Oh , it makes money ? Right - quick up on the double put *** on everything ! WAIt! What is *** ? Make it taboo first , then sell it ... Openly ... Wonderful .. Wonderful.. Oh also whilst your at it ... Make sure you coin the word love ... Yes that should bring humanity to their knees... Oh no wait , haha , wait... Also coin the word God, take their faith and take thier hearts and yes make money , oh ... Oh .. No wait , one more thing ... Coin the terms right and wrong ... Stifle their imaginations with doctors notes ordering the consumption of scientific make believe ... Haha I deplore you one last thing .... Take thier children , and dictate exactly how a child enters this world... Cut open the mothers womb , tear it to shreds , call it medicine , call it anything as long as *** sells and money is made...

Do you see what I see ?

I see that this smog , this veil is very , very , very , thin .

And I've seen beyond the ingrained Pre-programmed neuron pathways that exist in sub ether relms ,these rely on the capacity for one not to notice..... Not to notice the infinite joy and beauty in the so called mundane - in the simple observation
Of the one doing the observing .

And beyond that.... Well it all crumbles away... Revealing ( at least for me) the Eden we never left....
Written in a spontaneous moment of distaste .. I haven't lost my fiery Kali essence .. Hahah.. Who wants to fight ? Only words are the weapons of choice and music is my shield , the paintbrush my arrow , my photographs form armor - and my kisses and lovers light lead the way , keep me strong keep me sane , make sure I don't devour all
M May 2014
children
are a flame that is already kindled
and you must be careful not to extinguish it
for they will hold the water you poured all over their souls
deep inside them
forever.
children
are carpenters
engineers
painters
and when you build for them
build them a platform for them to explore from
not a box for them to fill.
children
are galaxies,
spinning, beautiful, incredibly deep
they are flowers, with tender pistils
and incredibly fertile stamen
they are grass that will not strangle eah other
until you stomp on them
they are clouds that move frailly,
bound by the wind and bearing but one load of rain
they are wells: the deeper you dig, the more you find,
the farther the bottom goes,
they are dancers: turn off the music for just a second, and the mood is ruined
they are all these things
but above all,
they are children,
and they should be guarded
and held as tenderly
as our own hearts-
even more so, for I am careless with my heart-
I will guard the children like I guard my mind,
lay down my life and pick up my armor
anything, everything,
for these, the most beautiful and perfect of us all.
this is in re my service hours hanging out with sixth graders
Vic May 2019
What if
I just
Don't
Post
Something
For
3
Months

Y eah no
A poem every day.


(Sorry but I forgot to post so this was randomly made up, it's trash but it's something.)
Anais Vionet Jul 17
Do you think we’re the sort of girls to sit around on a Sunday night?
EAH (loud buzzer sound) you’d be wrong!!

What’s the opposite of seasonal depression - seasonal euphoria?
I’m self-diagnosing here, but I think I’ve got it.
I have all the symptoms:

Excessive happiness: a level of joy statistically improbable.
Compulsive smiling: grinning under the most mundane circumstances.
Irrational optimism: the feeling everything will turn out all right.
Compulsive socializing: relentlessly engaging in parties and outings.
Impulsive behavior: capricious decisions that lead to.. stuff.
Difficulty focusing: trouble concentrating on ‘serious subjects.’
Increased appetites: A craving for.. everything fun.

I have to call it. The symptoms are limpid, my diagnosis is:
Summer, seasonal euphoria, and it feels pretty good.
.
.
Songs for this:
Rooftop by Kelly Jones
The Game of Love by Katrina & the Waves
DeadBeat Club by The B-52s
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge: Limpid: describes things that are perfectly clear.
Dennis Willis Mar 2019
Let's speak to this life
who's heart is not
at peace

These results
are stark
I think

Or

I can't see
beyond
my event horizon

There are just
no events
of note

Wait
retract that sorry fckr
rite there

there was
that night
with her

oh y eah
he thinks
again

so i am simple
an' bottemless
u?


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

— The End —