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Chris Twyford Feb 2012
"Watch The Sunrise..."*

Remembering
triggers
remembering
triggers ...

...I sat a deathwatch with a friend - just this last November. She was quite a person... It became the ultimate "He said, she said..." and at the end - *dissolution
. We shared the creation of the world she was "becoming". At sunrise the silence was total... and the darkness complete
- the circle unbroken.

I still watch the sun rise...
her sun ...rise,
and others
and others...


With each brightening-
so many are "becoming"
more than they were.
New worlds -
to be explored,
remembered -
still other thoughts echoing within.

Sometimes all I do is stare
-that faraway gaze,
that stolid look into eternity's face



...and sometimes I hear the "birds" -
  distractions of the 'dawning'
- and sometimes not.

Sometimes I understand -
chuckling here, at me ...understanding
how and why the anger flows inside.
For what it means to have been me
when
things happened, were done, weren't done,
ended ...began -
. is merely my own "he said, she said..."
soliloquy.

Life is sensual,
desire - ageless...
the need we feel
doesn't fade,
and loss isn't less keen now than then.

We hammer edges into the walls of our existence to prop
perceptions for renewel and then ignore the views
so they fade and fade away into our darkness.
And its almost like a physical distance
- to look into our thoughts ...almost.

I want ...
I want to ...
its not about ...
its ...

Remembering
triggers ...remembering.

Chris
Feel free.
precarious words Jun 2014
4 seasons

summer
drops of salt water found their way into our crevices,
you were my best friend
and we forgot the stars,
instead counting every grain of sand on that beach strand.

when it was time for me to leave,
you sang with the waves as back up vocals,
they would bare their teeth every time you uttered the word 'love.'
it was a protest to age but you and i knew
youth had nothing to do with it.

fall
a subtle color change in the foliage appeared
and as the leaves fall,
they made the music of our matrimony.

it was all good and well
but your failures latched on to me
and god, i was 22-
carrying the burden of a 22 year old and your latest tragedies-

the leaves still turned from lush green
to cinnabar and vermillion and ochre and the more brilliant
they became the closer to death they succumbed
following a paradigm resembling our relationship.

winter
when the snow touches the ground
everything is pure- the cold woke me up.
it woke me up as you held me
pinned down
in your luxurious apartment hallway,
where two weeks before i mistook money for monogamy.

and i've never wished fatality on anyone
but i hope you freeze to death.

spring
i met you in the spring,
and here we are, two springs later.
we are watching one another bloom,
we are the honeysuckles, the poppies,
we are reconfiguring ourselves for a season
of growth and renewel,
of quiet grace and goodness.
Michael John May 10
i
i

poetry is food and food
is poetry-the soul will shrivel
if it is terrible then so

throw a silver piece dude
into a bottomless well
and go no..

no..without it..universal
love and time so
genius and the fool

hand in hand
shared-crude tool
why, say people

o subtle little stand
some twaddle
death and renewel

the loving land
a quick cuddle-
her or his hand

try and keep track
like a diary book
like a distant f

dinner in front of
the computer
carrot soup and

quiche
poor or rich
does n´t matter..

kidnapped by aliens?
on you go..
tell us you woke up

with a sore ***-hole..
and more power to you
make it good though

don´t rush..don´t they say
god is in the detail
(i say and too often

i know..)and i go on
i know..finnishing is tricky
motion is my thing..

ii

travel i liked travel
now,i am frightened to put
my head out..

memory will do that
i realize now -but with all
the ***** cognac i imbibed

tis´wonder i can remember
but with the computer and a
nice cup of tea..

i was death and now i am life
well change baby..
viva la differences

the bat cat and rat
the chinese i admire
don´t you

i felt universal love
to strangers but now
i want to **** them-

such is life change baby
old and grumpy..lol..
i was so dumb

i thought got to do
something baby
apart from drinking..

i was going from alcoholic to
chronic..a book by..it is called the grass
arena..

john something-i have to move..john
healy..how a drinking man became
a chess champion..

saved me bacon..i picked up my
guitar and said right..
and then i thought what about painting

and so on..i thought i was good  but..
therapy..penny whistle followed
violin and mandolin

heal me..save it..baby..
reading..i think i have covered crime
and punisment quite extensively-

in other poems i know
my girl friend hit me with it-bam..
it hurt but i read it..

and dostoyevski..what a guy..
from their i got into the russians
when i think of a book

some memory is attatched
and love and redemption
sonia and rodney..

his lovely mother and dunya..
mr luhzin
and my sore head..siberia..
bless j..who had great *******..

— The End —