the grasps of my **** as the holder of time to the scales, as if it was my *******: desired inclined of all women of latter time as it's extension of the scaled respective independent selfish ******* as length in time as metered to overtaking body erradicating speed as colloidial motion distressed dementia slowing of all intensity asto contrast of haste of carried love as given of best length as best muscle wide ribbed real phenomenah constituted factuality enters the member of divided all penetrable imaginable intensity of the attitude assertive attentive of the yearn-craved-of all the famish as if actual shared intoaslike reality factual forlorned of the ****** engagement as the cunninlingus hunger of your taste lipped to each attention assertive command of the tongue to sense of even ambrosial scent as if dripping from tongue as licking of even like the contact of the mouth encumbers soul erogenous eroticmentality of the attitude inasif heat intensified feelings of desire attentive controlled of lust as this finality driven to of the seen as actuality of time as desire and as to it's **** as if normalcy actual constant submissively yields to the haste in time as both too and including of all bodies to greet my being as this sexuality superior with my body and **** englistened measured as twisted entertwined range of aim of all bodies to lust of thisity whatness of all to mynest time in relativity of all to feel me as my body pushes up and down ******* eager motion arched to back dig palm ******* as to the ensimultitide  momentum as all here chosen existent pristine envinciation of as invincibility is sacrificed for as if ****** to ****** pain  pain without ******* in all of every real time experience enverbatim and seen enwombed married by what just written;

I thought                                         you'd left us, long ago
desolate on a swing
                       rocking stale, dry grass and still air
                      
                      crossing
never quite                  the hurdle

                                                               ­                                                    lost

unaware
sweating youth in this humidity

I thought we'd never make it past the
rusty red and brown of weathered fences

                            like
              felt                        moun
   They                                  
                                                     tains

                                                               ­   Made of dirt
                                                                ­                       (guilt)
and an endless turmoiling scent, still fresh



I thought you'd forlorned us                  
h     e     a     v    y       r  a  i  n   and warm bodies
standing next to oxidized hoops
                                                          one adjacent to the other
The haze of the heat hard, but not impossible
to withstand                swaying like the gust of wind, swaying  
                                            the blazing sun and my open palms swaying




Why was it here                                         that it felt like you left us
                                                              ­                                              stumped,  
unaware,­
consuming  with no  
                                              idea of the Greater



2.


                                                W­ H A T was it about inner cities
And skin that would tan
Or resist the sun
   that made you  mutter murky words  


judgement
                   that made me hike a

                                  K
                       A
            E
P
that for so long made feel like a (lost) traveler
unable to come find my way   D O W N.

Still on a mountain top
Never quite crossing the hurdle.
That’s how you wanted me
A
     B
          A
                N
                     D  O N E D.

3.

But my tongue made sounds
copper pots and plastic measuring cups
became the pious  accompaniment
of a song sung inwardly
until it manifested
Words on lips
                            Lips willing to kiss the purple clouds made out of strange fruit and a high border walls over my hand and back

4. A Swimsuit and a pool that could cool
me
small children see the cicatrixes
      But I walk towards the water; I have long abandoned shame.

In a shoe box he sits
Quietly watching the darkness
Sitting forlorned
He's a sneaker
A loafer
Tied in laces
And hidden in shine
Alone
As his eyelets sag
With hopes the light peeks in
An envelope
Finding his leather
If only he could feel a touch
A foot
Feet
Interaction
A women's toes that wiggle
On those cold and lonely nights
Where inhabitation brings comfort
If only
He
His shoes
It could be fitted and fulfilled
Tailored and shined
And not be a beaten path
With wishful thinking
Of a women's toes that wiggle
For now though
A shoe horn would be the panacea
His hope
From being shelved
Hidden
In a shoebox he sits
Looking at the darkness
At the four walls corrugated
In lost time
Oblivious
Of walking

Logan Robertson

11/24/2018

White, crunchy snow,
Blanketing the prairie,
Wind whistling off darkened hills
Causing tree branches to sway,
Like some contorted dancer
Covered in the glistening ice.
An occasional dog, or wolf,
Howling hard, crying like
Some forlorned sailor lost,
Sick and silent in their misery,
Shivering helplessly in sub-zero torment.
No house for miles, starry night,
The sky lit up like a Christmas tree,
Moon so big and bright and orange,
You could touch it, pulling it to earth
In one full swoop it crashes down.
No birds singing melodious tunes,
No cows or bison wandering aimlessly.

Quiet in the dark, I hear her voice,
She speaks in riddles with no rhyme,
I press my ear against the cold plaster,
But she will speak when suited for her.

A long, mournful, cry forlorned, listening,
I speak so softly to whisper my desire,
But she will speak when her time comes,
I must be patient and wait a lingering time.

So buried long ago in this cold wall,
Long forgotten, but not forgiven locals say,
To why her fate came to her that long-ago day,
Is mysteries mystery I now must comtemplate.

When nothing comes, just like a blackened  void,
I call her name, so frantically in an audible voice,
But she will respond whenever the fancy hits her,
I must sit silent in case I miss her frigthened word.

Enough with civilities in playing a waiting game,
For her icy lips and cold-stone stare will surely come,
When walls of regret are torn down in self desire,
And I will gaze upon her skeletal soul to so define,
Why she is lost and buried so in walls sometime ago.

I wanted to be witty and sly
or dare I say without trepidation
trailer park brilliant and loose
as they stood forlorned and tired
soaking in the rain before me
but I had little or close to nothing at all.

The look on those grey faces
heavily stunned, vacant and lost
almost as if the very eye itself
were pacing down the hallway alone
as if things were registering
without having registered at all.

Reaching down deep and wide
farther, broader and well beyond
the sea of black in my heart at the time
I gathered and mustered at a very low decibel
the only few words or thoughts
electable on such a grave night.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Low Lands.
I… Cornelius Appleton, bid you good night!”

Just fifteen words spoken out loud
on the pier that night above the water
heard by those in and of the crowd
each and every word offered insincerely
against little or no resistance at all
from the natives, their neighbors and kin.

Then turning I left- no faster then normal
going, never to return in time or space
or to be heard from again in truth
hence forth just a shadow of a thought
of a man once there and in the know...
now gone without explanation or conclusion.

However, during the shifting doldrums of many nights
awakening- from the eternal springs of sleep
I see those faces and I hear their thoughts
and I recollect the dreams they had- of tomorrow
because it was I who lit them into fire
then smiled as they rose away in smoke.

In the bitter end when the day closed
neither I nor they in any way, fashion or shape
were any more grandiose, evolved or pleased
for having run the race  that we all ran together
but that race was run, it’s true and it’s in the books
perhaps in the future- we can run it again.

Little children love to come dancing,
Like tiny raindrops falling from heaven;
Glimpses into their unspoiled hearts,
Spread joyous rapture we can not measure.
Fallen angels come silently flying,
Like forlorned agents of lonely desire,
Their wings so gossamer, light as feathers,
How sad and distant their hearts are crying.
Furious demons come creeping along,
Slithering snakelike in the darkest hours,
Longing to carve their history in blood,
Causing great havoc on all who will listen.
Transparent clouds come floating freely,
Holding miracles of peace on this earth;
Hoping and healing we bask in their glory,
Knowing that faith is the beacon of light.

Paddle amongst the dark
Masked shadows clasped in sharp arches
Explore your flaws to experience more
Question conceit as preachers reach deep
Shots drawn before dawn
Chasing bright sunlight gilded aside
Brought up to rise again
Our lives repeatedly warned of descent
Air still warm as we sit forlorned
Sleight of hand connections tight
Observe the signs confined in mind
Silent whispers guided from behind
Focused awe channels through us all
Do we care to share energy
Too few view the transference of form

The Ecuadorians sit languishingly in the stairwell,
Staring at their cell phones,
The bizarre circus of humanity is about to begin,
As I wade through the perpetual crowd,
To dive in the back,
To my unknown fate,
There are characters,
Waned and waxed figures,
They caress trinkets,
They ****** their egos,
They stretch their forlorned backs,
They stroke their everlasting devices,
They return day after day,
There I am,
Making due with the,
Space,
I’ll stand and see,
If being personable,
Really makes a difference.

If it doesn’t,
I shall be a hermit,
Permit,
I will delude to the hills,
To a town far away,
To the ocean,
To the many faces,
Torn from pages,
Of someone else’s yearbooks,
To the anonymity of pure intension,
I’ll curl on my back every night,
Waiting for the end,
Content in the bleakness,
For what’s the point anymore,
The rugs have been pulled,
Time and blood spilt,
Salvation waits in the word,
The solitary significance that,
Arises from the perfect form,
The daring unrest of the thought,
The silly unkempt ruling,
The turbulence of being,
Ripples across ages,
Hoping to hold dear,
The image so clear,
No matter foolish sages,
This was all just the ends to a mean.

I'm a drama
queen
one with the utmost tastes
and forlorned lusts
an animal by any other name
a hair, a haunt, a thimble
a willaby
a tuts
tut tut
tuts

Freezing warmth
Radiates from a frigid
Rancid heat
Fearing a hot tubs
Final goodbye
Fetid whispers into the fallapon nights
Please
Please don't go
Feel cheap beer slide down
Your rapidly fanatical throat
Feigned cries of the frozen man
Echo in the night
Fostered cares of the forlorn it
Frantic jokes told
In the same fervent pitch of a
Forlorned lover screaming
Always screaming
Why is the ******* failure always screaming

In a place called Wuhan, a virus was born;
This great Chinese city, now ever forlorned.
'Corona', we called it and later renamed
As 'Covid-19' of unwanted fame.

It spread like wildfire from beast unto man
And further by air, sea, and on land.
"PANDEMIC!", a cry from the W-H-O,
The virus will travel wherever we go!

You must heed this alarm, just look all around
In sickness and sorrow, despair can be found.
No country is safe from this global threat
We give you a warning, tough times will be met!

Armour is on to fight the disease;
A hockey stick's length will prevent paying fees,
Embrace social distance to help stop the spread,
To keep us from sickness, or possible death.

Use N95 masks, gloves, smocks and I reckon
With washing of hands for a good 20 seconds
And no hugging, kissing, or shaking of hands
Social proximity has all but been banned.

Most stores are closed, our kids aren't in school
To beat this Mad Beast we must follow the rules.
We can't see our foe, but what we do see
Is something that hungers for you and for me.


It started with one but doubled each day
The war is upon us and thousands will pay.
Ventilators, doctors, and nurses we lack
To defend ourselves, and mount an attack.

If you have the training, come be our might:
A call to all able to march in this fight.
Retired health workers, many came 'round
All hands on deck to bring this Beast down.

The world has changed, yet must remain strong
So help one another, alone would be wrong.
We're all in this together, hold fast your faith,
And never forget the December '19 date.

4-13-2020

See if the first was fear
Until that last was supermarket beer
The buttress is golems and frights and fomentation in lacey tights
Body lowers as girth widens
but that's physics
only spiritually
it will always be
the other way round inimically 'apprise them'
As standing tall is subterfuge
And as time is wasting and the waist it is defying
It is all undue

& either flowery bowery butchery cynical slithery maniacal
Co eccentric-cism caught the common cohabitation
Tarnish on the door of morn and in night
Or on another day of looking at tattered floors debuted so sinister
yet book end dull receding is
Candle light
The flickers in brain wish wash and forlorned
then senses inane
and finnigan begin again
What else can one say?

To Picture me,,
Not in love
Would be blaspheme,
And yet I sit
In reflection,
Recompensed by transgressions.....
Committed and convicted of after being forewarned......

Un fathomed .
..forgotten
Forlorned
Chalice full of scorn
Crestfallen
Mourned by the dead.....
Reduced to
Sit in sacloth
Pouring ashes on my head...
Like a pig on a spit
Basted with unsavory things I've done
Seducing  Karma was easy.......
A ruddy little nerd,
Told her she was pretty
The starving little dog ate every word.......
Filtered her eyes with poetry.....
I played the field....
Unconcerned....

Convinced her I was the one... ....
On the day we were to be wed
Fleeced her of everything
Left her at the alter without my vows being said......
now she's Obsessed
No good deed goes unpunished
I'm hex, vexed and hazed...
every glib quip spake
Or every woman that says goodbye to  me.
It's her face I see!
Knuckles
Bleed
Racked with splinters...
Railing loves door...
Afraid to let me in...

born for this chase.......let the race begin...
my heart to carry me
But my souls worn
Thin

..grasping for straws gasping for air.  
Used to return from the forge strengthened shiny ,glistening......
Clean.....
Now I'm the dross.

Fin...
..
.

.