and

you think you are done with it.
but the notion potion returns with your stolen free will
taunting and tearing, sealing and then dissolving
the seals

no retirement in this world from where human means pliable
and pliable means capable of being twisted; nay, retwisted...

last we left you weeping on the concrete sidewalk of
Third Avenue, the police, giving you a move on command,
as Jean Valjean earworms one into the incapacity of movement  because of the audacity to request to bring him home

such is the sorrow of the lost child; it comes with irregularity
yet, never failing to return, the child lost, the residual, resides
within like a violin adagio reaching the punishing silence
after a crescendo that  pretense promised momentary relief

we struggle to keep any and all keepsakes,
polished and fed; rust and time, no polish in the five & time dime
that does a good enough job,
but you buy it anyway

well aware that fate will inevitably rob you, it’s so purposed

twist you, retest you and re-will you, to never forget until
you have no need for forgetting but the peace of
constant remembering when all on that day
molecules and nucleotides
collide in the atmosphere,
dog licking, cat weeping purrs, meaning hallelujah home

the endless sadness of the lost lad-ness, dimly grow the recollections of the first word, the first delight, the confidence complete
that your babe is non pareil; the violin sweeps you along and the genteel tide still too string strong to resist

the woman comes into the room;
the reddened eyes no hide
the weeping outside and in the centerpiece of a soul;
why she asks, not surprised for she’s seen it
too many damn poem-times:
my Adam, I answer;
suffices and wisely
leaves me to
compose and decompose simultaneously
weeping weeping forever weeping even when not

furious eddies rock smashing,
curious they splash me with taunts
"you want for naught!"

but naught is the only possess
that owing it makes one impoverished

perhaps he will email me, ewail me,
does he know I am at the
Wailing Wall, Jerusalem,
insert parchment prayers for his safety

oh my Absalom, oh my Adam, my favorite first born,
come sit next to me on the sidewalk so close to where you live,
comfort me as in the days of your youth,
now that we are both
so very much older

sleep well all you lads and children,
never mind these unstoppable tearings,
never mind the heaviness,
for it has passed
as the tears shed
enlighten my embodiment

7/16/18 prone and alone
for my kinship
How long does it take to get over lost loves. Books and sunshine can’t fuel my bonfires celebrating life is but a dream my parties are so outdated I don’t know how my soul speaks anymore. Run on sentences because my brain can’t comprehend grammar anymore it’s just word vomit and love ticks trying to spit out energy at any awkward chance it gets. Will writing be the same I plead my soul to gain its old memories through feel and spontaneity. I learn to love again is it really all through creating I pick my scabs my nicknames by what I seem are better days before an abusive heartbreak I never truly know what is at stake when I put my heart into beings never truly seeing what they’re meaning behind their lies and deceiving I always see the best despite the feelings. My visions always so temporary never thinking what I could truly accomplish is what I want to do. What I want to be. How loud I might scream or how tired I might be but how high I climb over all simple yet complicated atrocities. I just want my soul to gleam I just want to feel so clean I just want to get over all these things that are holding me. I keep hitching thoughts of friends loving me trying to abide by social standards taught to keep me balanced keep me holy.
Keep thinking about human trolls just stagnant in feeling during purrs of not speaking just vibrations under being. Vibes push out dark thoughts yet still no words come out I feel invisible isolated by myself reality is loneliness

— The End —