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Cné May 2017
Her shadow
Washed in sin, covered in blood
Oh, what a sad little dove
Festering secrets, slathered in shame
Purity poisoned, life to blame
Born unwanted, a mother denies
Behind the shadow of our eyes

His shadow
In dynamics
Of dysfunctional dismay
Lost in secret family shame
These emotional contacts delay
That we carry 'til the end of our days
Cast in stone, in foundation of lies
All these shadows behind our eyes

Her pain
Painful memories of long ago
Though, I know, I must let go
Triggers upon the aching scars
That burns within an injured heart
Full of fear, in the wake of lies
All behind the shadow of our eyes

His pain
An unending twitch
The fast fading smile
The ever bleeding heart
Of a broken lost child
Carrying stones up endless hills
All these issue we're forced to feel
And stuff them down, way down inside
Behind the shadow of our eyes

Her darkness
Hidden is a blacken variant
Attached with unbreakable sealant
Of life's destiny, from the gods
Concealed amid, evolved facades
A mind, compartmentalized
Behind the shadow of our eyes

His darkness**
Desensitized to life, empathy left poor
Bottomless abyss where my spirit now soars
Love is a dream in my abandoned role
The pieces won't fit my wandering soul....

The window to a soul hides
Behind the Shadow of our Eyes
Sharing shadows with Traveler
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2019
a man privately asks, can you help?
you say, sure-no-hesitation

let me think on it for a day or two, he says
yet you act even before he comes back,
too late, you say, when he returns,
too late, he repeats in puzzlement,
yup, my check is in the mail,
cause one senses the need is dire plus,
plus you well recall the immutable obligation when  
a vague commitment of “just ask” was inked in a long ago message,
a poem born from/in the days when you slept in the car on the street

this vague promissory,
a more enforceable judgement in your own court of law
than any state construct or the judgmental eyes of a silenced god

word, honor, do.

thus it begins, an unwritten contract inked,
an egregious interest rate of 0% proffered and agreed,
commences a plain white envelope trickle,
a check inside, by postal mail, slowly it came,
month by month, inch by inch, Niagara Falls ^

years go by, and then comes a day,
when the accompanying check and its gift wrapped note says,
Paid In Full!

and so much for the tedious minutiae...

like kindness, I do,
Thank You and Your Welcome
are high on my list of proofs of
daily human extensions existential,

Paid in Full,
now rests at the top of the list

let me be blunt, the thrill of being a party
to a deal with no handshake, just coated in the
honorable words waterproof sealant,
with a person I likely may never meet,
made me so better assured of whom many claim I am,  
a mathematical proof revered and kept mind inscribed,
it was an aspirational ****, an unforeseen monthly blunt,
the best feeling good smile,
a kick in the pants about what really matters

being paid twice over and me,
getting by far,
the humanity confirmation,
the better half of the deal

write too often of honor,
and yet, will instinctual do again,
again overpowering my rays of will,
for there is no deflection, only reflection

for the glorious riches gifted and received,
without compare
the return on my honorable investment the best ever


oh brotherhood, oh brotherhood,
I am paid in the currency coined from brotherhood...
^ from a Laurel and Hardy routine
yup, true story
"This above all: to thine ownself be true"
which denies the escape
of being false to any human.”
Eggy Mar 2015
My biggest fear is to lose the one friend who cared more after I moved, rather than all the people who cared in convenience.

I remember all of the things you done for me, to bide my rupturing soul.
I used to think you were sealant.
But I feel myself crumbling to my feet.

And if we don't talk by two weeks time, I promise I will never depend on a single person or thing as I did you.
You tricked my subconscious to trust and put a meaning to forever.



Of all people I thought you would understand a drunken mistake.
This I had a right to say.
Icarus M Jul 2016
Why are you settling for me? tumbled the rocks. All gathered up in a pile were they, now fallen all over the ground in a seemingly terrible pattern or even no pattern at all.

There was silence.

Why are you waiting for me? Sprouted the vines as its stems grew round the side that had saw no light. Saw no nourishment. No survival. And soon those arms withered and sagged and littered the ground.

Only a soft breeze caused a leaf to move and a light scrape was heard. Then. Nothing.

Why do you continue to stand with me? Creaked the fence. Wooden and withered. Partially stained and patches of white. My innocence is gone and so is your patience. I am splintering into a thousand pieces that only seem to harm you. The sealant wears off after a single storm. The paint is sun bleached within a week and cracks are appearing revealing the crumbling wood inside. I'm infested with feelings of instability as termites devour the fiber of my being. I remain a skeleton. A crumbling memory.

So why?

A slight tap. Tap. TAP. as the rocks were picked up one by one and placed back into an organized pile.

Why?

A slight rustle. Rustle. RUSTLE. as the dead litter was swept away and arms of vines were redirected towards the sunny side.

WHY?

A slight schwick. Schwick. SCHWICK. as the lacker was applied and reapplied followed by a layer of paint, topped with a weather proof sealant guaranteed to only slightly crack

Why do you love me? Cried the girl.
And he gathered her up in his arms like he did with the rocks.
And he reoriented her face toward his like the vines to the sun.
And he stared into her and gave her what she needed to be strong (and like the layers he applied to the fence he's rebuilding her).
And she looked around the garden and saw her thoughts organized, her energy and motivation radiant, her self confidence and bravery enhanced. All she needed now was to love herself too.
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Kathleen Jul 2013
When I was young my mother painted the ceiling with every color there was.
She made the falling stucco and sealant into clouds and rainbows and horses;
horses of blue and purple and green.
One time I left my room and stared all night at the stars,
they were so much more vivid.
You couldn't deny their presence,
they were like little beings coming straight toward you.
Didn't need to look up, you could stare straight forward out of the window and it's like they were looking at you too.
But cautious, they never came close enough for me to grab them and trap them in my hand like a rolli-polly.
There were fireflies that loved to gather like tiny self supporting oil lamps by the tree next to our house.
They would swim around me because they knew they were far too clever for me.
There were toadstools that I would kick out of principal and river rocks that were never smooth enough for the current hadn't the will.
Caves where the ivy would circle for no reason but to give me the best hiding place of all time.
We ate snow that one time, when it had snowed for the one time it would in 7 years.
There was a single stoplight in a square of one tiny block where I would get dizzy riding my bike.
Then the Crawfords would let me ride their horse.
That's where I got stung by a bee for the first time and I fell on the red dirt road and cried and cried.
One time a tornado almost swallowed me whole while my trailer baby-sitter wasn't looking.
I remember asking with all sincerity for the third time how to spell cat.
Lolly-pops adorned the daycare where I watched trolls singing Kokomo.
These are all the good things I can remember,
so I cherish them.
Megan Grace Dec 2014
Jay
i have tried to build a home inside myself,
one of iron and molten lava and red hot
brick,  but you have snuck your way
through my sealant and made
yourself a space in the very
center of my being.
tonight is my birthday party
and you should be here.
trf Nov 2017
there's something humbling,
about the way i feel,
when a darker figure,
around me appears.
this testimony,
won't quench like a meal,
and these sirens
surely won't make it real.

   i'm enlightened,
   but still can't comprehend,
   all of this violence,
   between man's so called friends,
   don't confide in us,
   we cannot understand,
   that there's no difference,
   between two humans.

   you see i did it,
   although an accident,
   was born with it,
   used the words us and them,
   i won't forget it,
   we're not yet blendin' in,
until we all die, we must pay the rent.

ya see these shrimp were exhausting all their energy,
swimmin' in caves as dark as our synergy,
dying off,
they couldn't help their friends,
cause they had to deal with all the elements.

there's a cost to existing in a cave,
can't attest to the cost of living like a slave,
my own boss, i'm eluding to the trends,
     don't need no more widows of veterans.

until we use all our five SENSES,
and cross out all our hate,
exude all of our energy,
especially as of late.

we are doomed for a century,
we reside in this cave,
you cannot hide your emotions,
they will not compensate,
for all this pride you deserve,
you can't help but feel it,
until we find a remedy,
we'll be unnerved, no sealant.
"these micro-miracles of evolution,
live in the black depths of a river here,
in a sunless cave in Madagascar."
Nat Lipstadt Oct 5
“humility, the capacity to listen well. It requires building up trust”
<>

give me your most precious,
time
when the pensive, contemplative,
spirits are present
the strength of introspection rising,
the remarkable willingness to say
with humility
there is so much I have
yet to experience,
that
I am
needy for human exchange

I,
we,
must be willing to
trust
each other for the investment in
each other,
especially that
first time;

it is both instantly invested,
and forever spent,
and can only be recovered,
with lubricant ,
the sealant,
of
humility of
the most basic kind,
more!


a belief that each of us
in possess
something
of value,
each desirous of the
equality of exchange

THIS
is why I love these new poets
so, so much:
they come with the opening intra-opposition,
~
the debating team internal, infernal,
of fear, failure, rejection
but put the courage
to enter the sticking place,
and let themselves be adjudged

ah, we enjoy the risklessness of
faceless anonymity, escaping into the
void of  gone, never-was-here,
but that is only your failure

for who you are is
the courage to reply:

I think…
therefore
I am
5:26 am
the first
Sabbath
this is why you know
my name
of the New Year
held together with makeshift glue
one part blood, three parts pain
my bones cracking, fracturing
i am filling these spaces in
with mortar and cement
and the still-hot ash of my passion
passion like a furnace; alas
with all things bright and burning
the wick lights for a mere few seconds
then leaves smoke, dancing in the wind
like you then, one moment there,
setting me ablaze, the next,
gone
and i, alone
vulnerable to the cold
that was when the unravelling came
i took my broken but still-beating heart
with tears and blood and witchwork
i fashioned an impenetrable sealant
one even your pretty, silken lies
couldn't slip through
ever again
Ptax Kuro Jan 2020
After that, the floor had to be
dried for several days
using a hairdryer,
iron
and wiping,
keeping the window permanently open.
During this time the purchased roll
of new floorcovering
managed to reach room temperature.
New planks were quickly installed
instead of the stripped ones,
and then the entire floor was lined
with 6 mm plywood to avoid leveling.
A new monotone polyvinyl layer
was placed on the adhesive
and double-sided tape
(for fixation).
The seams were joined by silicone
sealant. After that,
the repair was completed,
as it is common to lay the lino
at the end.
Earned to date,
nee absolute zero
academic bankable bragging rites
explained arduous, horrendous, onerous
agonizing, heartbreaking,
nerve wracking travails

hamstringing, hijacking, hobbling...
maximization of potential
e'er since yours truly
begat when ma dada
fired off his johnny rotten *** pistol
handy dandy blues clues unsheathed

******* gun - lobbed more'n blanks
scoring bullseye pregnant truth
discovered ex post facto
yoked target with egg sealant aim
conceived coe idle upstanding ovation
fusion formed diploid
cell signifying zygote

activating, kickstarting, quickening
embryonic biological reproductive processes
intimating swell happening,
where linkedin rocketed payload
snookered triggered ultimately
yielded inchoate homunculus jackanapes

zapped out birth canal
ready for prime crying time
parturition players chemical romance loosed
yawping, writhing, tethering pipsqueak
full term newborn blasted,
the shocked monkey,

accompanied by archangel Peter Gabriel
trusty unnecessary dangling umbilical cord
obstetrician quickly severed
in utero air supply superfluous
initial gulps of oxygen
commenced fretful incessant laborious

ongoing ripsnorting unrelenting
said vicious trauma,
albeit begat courtesy
glommed deoxyribonucleic acid
mercilessly assailing psyche
metaphorically holding hostage

nee actually essentially cannibalizing
analogous to birthing simultaneous
diabolical identical twin doppelgänger
undermining since getco
proper holistic pursuits
evidenced when matriculating

learning fraught
shot thru with abysmal results
post high school
academic endeavors
evidenced by matriculation
without graduation incorporating

half dozen colleges/universities
earning measly grade point average
simultaneously accumulating
shoddy employment record
now saddled with unbridled

penuriousness - scratching out poetry
every now again
this brother grimm
writing endeavors feeble
becoming financially solvent.
Hooria Iftikhar Mar 2021
I’m sorry I had feelings again,
Don’t worry
I pushed them down,down
Down with the rest.
I found the hole they came out
Of and I filled it with cement.
Then I checked for cracks
Where feelings might leak out,
And I sealed them up.
I saved some sealant in case
There’s another crack
And I’m back to feeling NOTHING......!
My bad
I just wanted to be happy!
But I’m glad seven angels taught me to love myself...!❤️❤️
Thrashing frantically with futility
fore and aft fuels unseen internal racket,
which wrestling chokehold did nothing
to loosen or shuck off, nee only bracket
more severely, and bind tighter constraint -
analogous to being bound in straitjacket.

Cogs and wheels comprising
mental gear shaft cant
allow me to break free and scant
even minimally move,
thus only death can grant
release from continually

broadcasting another desperate rant
courtesy of my fifty plus
shades of gray matter, where extant
each brain cell caked, glommed,
and hardened with
lifelong hermetic sealant.

Mechanized irrational
behavior long did wield
unnatural control over actions, ******
functions, and thoughts long since sealed
where ever since post adolescence
childhood footloose and
fancy free days appealed.

Innocuous coping methods slowly
steeped in unhealthy fixation mode
innocent unsuspecting reactions
to ordinary life events did easily overload
and inexplicably, gradually,

yet egregiously erode
axons and neurons of each
and every neurological node
perhaps fated since conception,
a quirk within deoxyribonucleic code.

Psychological distress took hold
early during second grade
of school and set mold
for subsequent years,
cuz February 28th 1968 tell all told,
a significant upheaval for me,

which impact did unfold
when parents (in their prime) sold
the house on Lantern Lane
(Audubon, Pennsylvania) a bold
decision that unwittingly
wrenched psyche til I got old

in retrospect painful legacy
learned of very low threshold
involuntary inward withdrawal
set figurative ice cold
freeze (total shutdown)
of whole being and apathy,
and self resignation
condemned stranglehold.

Missus Rittenhouse the
assigned teacher at Eagleville
Elementary School discerned
meager effort and no will
to do more than fail (despite
poor grades), and still

bumped up recall when attending third
grade at Henry Kline Boyer
(another silent catastrophic
psyche dislocation) skill
fully convinced Missus Welles

third grade teacher into the grill
of Mister Stout (grade
four teacher) could not still
do nothing except pass,
no matter I barely passed fire drill

burnt out exhaustively acquiring least
flattering letter grades,
which almost complete
failure a bitter pill
like swallowing poison,
which nearly did ****!
T R S Sep 2019
Clipped, and happening
on the shores of sharpened shears
Is a veneer of shock built beetle shellac
That'll act like a sealant.

Believe me, if you peel back the needle paper
of staples and waxy stock,
then,
again,
don't be shocked by all of the little bugs that shock you.

It'll reset back to zero,
Heroic actions, not withstanding
So!
Instead let hate have an ample landing,
and have ample space
To hold together
the sort of space that
had been bothered.
More so,
Bothered to be.
So live,
to breath
and see.
Eyes of a sky. So entwined
With worldly promise.
The absence. Of a god is like
A girl deprived of chocolate...
And eyes of god.
See Gabriel's gift. To the prophet.
Muhammed...


Of love. Battle Songs. And jaws
Of hardened granite..
Manic episodes. That make
Me want messianic status...
Capture the head of Janet.
Just to stop the yapping...
Funny if I'm a girl
Why you call me man. ******
*** Amanda Bynes played shes the man.
And mulan was the script of trans mishappened.
Thrown in a mislabeled basket.
Washed with miss matching fabrics
To stain the water.
Now my fathers cloth is
***** crayon. Spray on sealant
Matching shade of batshit....

Palette of a dancer. With a rat **** wig and talent matches
Like she came from insanity.
Who could of imagined this great
Manifested. Happiness would happen...
Like a planet of amateurs.
Who took for granted.
How God's plan was greater than imagined flaws.
Anxiety. And dry heaves.
In a weaved contour of detour.
To a place of committed insanity
Death and damage to my manhood.
Surgeon. Working. With imperfections. Managing
In the band saw....
Chop a ******* hand off.
Hold my throat at ransom
For cash candy. And a soft retreat to chuck berry's mansion.
Complex of cher. Celine dion.
And the killers.
Speak of jesus. My knees like freon
Keep me clean my cheeks breach my teeth.
And soon the village sees
I different me.
Intended and invented. Born of
Meaning. Caution but promised.
To be clean of tempered damages
And diagnosis ****** forensic.
**** it I'm just rambling.
Dont believe the plot.
The director or the camera men
The novels much better.
Jot my thoughts in pen
And saturate the smooth canvas
With the dancing ants
That manifest. Loss of sanity.
Like washcloths in the basket
Marked for bleach.
But reaching its arm into the washer
To clean its conscience.
Body stops. The heart collapses.
Revived. Brought back from
Jesus. God Angel's. ..
Dead Rose One Sep 30
a passing balloon piece,
his, within in a message,
makes the imagery explode
with numerous contractions,
even confusions, and requires an
explaining explication and a fresh
application of sealant

men see the words ~ think war or football,
women think of the lyric, phrase in a sad
love ballad that means recall, and a
moistening  tear drop that liquifies but doesn’t drop

but that word, pulverized,  has an enormity
attached, that conjures destruction total,
s battlefield’s aftermath, tree stumps cut
down, synchronized with bodies in parts,
sole souls departing
without reasoning/justification

the lineage upon her face,
pulverized by sorrow and
no expectations for the morrow,
gaveled into existence,
by losses and carried
for a length of  a term ill defined,
as “life”
with no hint of irony, for it’s not life
when  it’s spent reminiscing remembering
the dismemberment of what was a
joy taken instantly and perpetually inexplicabe

the tragedies multicolored in black,
a solid stolid state that nary a meter,
talking centi’s here, pinch of breeze
and /or hurricane alters status quo,
both of us have long known that, but
we nonetheless pick up grains, single
alphabet scrambled pieces to put the
whole together again, but it’s a cause
hopeless cause we be
are
pulverized inside so
the chorded chore is
a double whammy
and still
and yet
we say
but,
for we cannot stop our fingers
from their appointed rounds
and we think in term not of hope
but a thought out louded,
the eternal question,
what if
we do not try?
Do you remember,
' a night unlike any other night...'
well
this was a day like so many other days
worked my fingers to the bone
got home and
She
kissed me better,

used ***** as a sealant
which to all intents
was quite pleasant.

But a hard day nevertheless.

— The End —