Have you seen the downcast faces
fraternized with the loathed ******?

Look behind you,
You owned the shadow of facade
That moves between the surface of falsity
with the light of profound verity.

Can you see the similarities
Of the downcast and *****?
Or can you recognize yourself,
Together with those words?

Frank fraternized with females
frolicing, flirting, fun
fantastic, fanciful feelings
Fabricating fantasies

Can you ask someone to love you as
they lead you down gentle paths
Guided by sensations you know exist;
Sometime long ago, neglected to ask?

Who couldn't have fraternized with the girl
Of dark look and sultry eyes ?
But for a life I mis-created ...
Struggling in circles to weave new ties

Sweet encroaching lust awakes you
and erases dust
You seem to think lazy -
The terror is gone, so many miles away love
might have
stolen the air of wintry haze

Hell, God knows I was feeling insecure
And for what to come, nothing more?
Sometimes, wavering self-respect
And past tribulations
you'd rather forget

© Copyright David Bosworth January 2014

Last night I dreamt of thunder storms
Lightning, hail, and rain.
I dreamt of people screaming and
The somber rattling of chains
In my dream I saw my death
The absence of ever breathing life
I saw hardship and simplicity
In my never ending strife.
I dreamt of un-measurable beauty
And the evils of this earth
I never longed for anything.
Nothing I valued had worth
I dreamt of life long journeys
But never took a step
I dreamt of rainy Sundays
And floors that needed swept
Last night I dreamt of crying
And death before a chance
Last night I dreamt of laughter
And young love’s silent glance.
I dreamt of what could be,
And what I’d never see again.
I fraternized with enemies,
And hated all of my friends.
I ran into the woods
Bare feet and solemn eyes
Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! I screamed,
With my eyes trained on the sky
Last night I dreamt of blood
And death and beauty and pain
Last night I dreamt of summer.
Last night I dreamt of rain.

Pretty regularly now
I pass by that house

It was my first feelings of security
It was my true home away from home

Always there
Always happy
I've truly grown since I've known
What that household
Set in stone

I outgrew my shell

I fraternized for the first time

I experienced my first feelings
of gratification
of wanting
of being longed for

I expanded my mind
broadened my horizons

I've stayed up all night
I've broken the law

I've formed bonds
so strong
so strong

I met my second mom
I became the prodigal son

I owe everything to that place
everything to you & her

It all comes back to me now

He in an instant ruined it all
he ripped the carpet from underneath

The times are lost in obscurity

He's all that's left there now

You and her have far moved on for better

The trees die and the character with it

But I will always have my memories
He cannot, WILL not take those away

Driving by now it all flashes by, just like that
Every time I pass it

And every time I see his car in the driveway
I roll down my windows and yell
*******

and keep driving on

It raged across five Aprils, killed 600,000 sons,
but now, there was a chance for peace, if Johnston wanted one.
Some urged a guerrilla war, a game of hit and run,
but Johnston saw a suffering South and knew this must be done.
He called a truce with Sherman to surrender his command.
In truth, I think he would have rather shook the Devil’s hand.
The defeated kept their horses, and were paroled back to their homes.
This land once more united, its prior sins atoned.
For every drop of blood that had been spilled by blow or lash
had been matched, drop for drop, in every ****** clash.
On the ninth of April 65’ Rebels tore their battle flags
and little strips of colored cloth were given to each man.
The flags were not surrendered to become the spoils of war.
They fraternized with men they would have killed the day before.
Now all who had survived the war, all but one, would live.
Good Friday night would claim the last that Lincoln had to give.

i go out seeking a great perhaps
immenser than the void i know.

but you have left
as all the others did --
only a few remained.
yellowing letters with words growing thinner and thinner barely
hanging, loosely against the mouth
of the fringe.

it is not enough that you have left.
it is not enough that this room
shouts enormously with its
darkness pressing against the venetian and i cannot see you anymore.
it is not enough that i hear your
footsteps mince away towards the seep of the door where your departure has overstayed its welcome.
it is not enough that there will be no more mornings to delight in - only nights where i scrounge for light only to find that even the things that glint have no use anymore.
it is not enough that we have screamed, yelled, bellowed our names at each other in love, now on hate. it is not enough that your once callow eyes are now lion-telling and mine, vulterine.

the arrival is just as swift
as the pulse of leaving and now
in the next room are so many women,
and it does not help that there
are also many rooms fraternized
altogether, filled with more
and more people.
the fuller the earth gets,
the sicker i become,
and the more stricken i become,
the more i remember that i have died wanting more deaths.

soon i will find your debris scattered throughout the streets
made for me to walk on.
a strand of hair, a pair of shoes,
a dress you never wore, the telephone like a petrified train
in the station of my hollow being,
and that it would ring,
i know it too well,
but there will be a strange voice
at the other end that will
pierce me back to remembering
how you sound and i will take
it, i will take it for
for the indictment nears its brutal straightforwardness:
it will never be you waving
at the other end of the street
together with the ugly palms.
it will never be you
in the dress, it will never
be you on the passenger seat
peering out into the world with
eyes beating the darkness of the freeway with the many exploding lights of who you are
and what you've given me with
what was left of you,
and what i've given you
amid this thing of being me.

it is never enough.
it is never enough that
i know this, and it is never enough that unknowing you is longer
   than how we have known each
    other when our voices are the
    only once that dwelt within
      ourselves.

the moon follows
with its silver hook

a fish in the water
swimming through
the debris --

when i am in the avenue,
  it sleuths in similar pace,
its nearing blear
   in my window.
its distance
   in the thoroughfare.
  it shines its
  white face, presses its
  luminescent hands
   the size of two worlds against
   a jungle of fraternized lamps
   stealing all light
   creating the dark's progeny:
      a shadow enters frame.

only the mellow moon
knows the loneliness of
my melody.
the wound of my tempo.
and sometimes it sings to me
through the embellished amaranth
of starless sky: its dull crescent,
dips its voice into my being
   creating ripples.

and through all worlds witnessing
  its tight clutch in the distance,
  choking all that is lost and
  sends it back to its
  origin, is i and the moon.
  our secret entreaty in all
  the windows of the world,
  gazing at each other,
  romancing pains.

When I met you
I gave up my safety
pushed away peace
avoided common sense
and ignored happiness
When I met you
I fraternized with danger
consorted with violence
embraced folly
and accepted misery