I ended the only relationship I've ever had.

After four years I told him I didn't want to get married.
"So you want to get married but just not to me?"

I revisit that day in my sleep every night. The day that I took the plane to do it right. Boston far below.
"You have completely broken my heart."

My brother by my side at the departure and arrival. The sumner tunnel under construction and $300 in jet fuel later.
"I want you to be gone when I come out of the bathroom."

A few months prior he told me that dating me was "bliss". I knew it hadn't been that for me.
"Is this it? Are you done with me just like that?"

I told him that he was taking me for granted and I couldn't talk to him when I needed him most. Hiding my mental illness should he think I'm broken.
"Just because I don't ask how your day is does mean I don't care."

He flew to Boston not 12 hours later. Even during his grand gesture he couldn't help but criticize me.
"Stand up straight."

He told me he thought suicide was selfish. How was I to tell him I had considered parking my car on the highway bridge over the Merrimack river and jumping off? A women did that the first week I lived here, so I knew it would work.
"I thought about putting a gun in my mouth and pulling the trigger."

My best friend told me he asked her for her name. I'd been dating him for three years. Pop quiz: Who is your girlfriend's best friend and roommate? Did he even listen to me speak at all? Did he even care about my life at all?
"Whats your name again?"

Three months later, I only see you when I sleep. I'm haunted by this memory. I never dream we are still together and I wonder what that means. I've broken up with you a hundred times but it doesn't get any easier.
"Tell me everything you don't like about me. Give me a list."

And the ironic part is that i knew from the start,
that the whole thing was futile, yet i still played my part.

you wiggle and hissed, and lets be quite blunt,
when the hand set you down, you set out to hunt.

well you two faced *****, i'll tell you it straight,
your stuffed fulled of malice, and topped off with hate.

as for that dumb hand, i now see it as true,
that the hand that once fed me, is a ******* snake too.

There are few places,
Sweet Sumner Maiden,
Where I Feel you half as much.

Soft light of fading dusk,
Reflecting off gentle waves,
Of the deep dark well of the lake.

I call to you, Sweet Nimue,
The gentle waves rippling,
Like your hair in a gentle breeze.

I call to you, Sweet Maiden,
The fiery sunset blazing,
Like the gold and fire of your hair.

I call to you, Sweet Nimue,
The deep water, black and quiet,
Like the dark depths of your secrets.

I call to you, Sweet Maiden,
The gentle breeze across water,
Your soft breath on my skin.

I call to you, Sweet Nimue,
The waters so gentle I see a sword,
Raised up by your hand, O Lady of the Lake.

I call to you, Sweet Maiden,
Send your wind,
Rising across the water,
A soft breeze,
A mighty gale,
Raise the wind,
My sweet Nimue,
Lady of the Lake,
Corn Maiden,
Bringer of Wind,
Consuming fire,
The wind across your lake,
The power of your joy,
The power of your anger.

I call to you, Sweet Nimue,
Sweet Maiden,
My Lady of the Lake.

BILLY the Kid was truly a kid when found in the company of children.
Many children of his day would go on to say
how much they wished their playtime with him would never end.
Good Guy/Bad Guy were one of the games Billy would play with the children in town.
"Bang! Bang! You're dead Billy!"
Billy would then grab hold of his chest and comically fall down to the ground.
Salsa Bocca recalls her playtime spent with her playmate Billy Bonney.
"He used to bounce me on his knee for what seemed like hours as if I were riding a pony."
The following story might not be true but I'll still share it with you
because it certainly fits Billy's profile.
This young boy in dismay kept following Billy all day.
Wherever Billy went he was followed by this star struck child.
"Do you know who I am?" Billy asked the young lad.
The child simply nodded, "Yes" was all that he said.
Billy took off his hat, dusted it off and placed it on the young boy's head.
The innocent young child was overjoyed and smiled
and then this is what Billy said and did.
"If anyone ever asks you who gave you that hat,
you tell them you got it from BILLY the Kid."
Billy was also very respectful of the elderly
and very sympathetic towards they who were poor.
Many times he would extend acts of kindness towards them.
He was a true philanthropist at heart to be sure.
The newspapers portrayed him as this dangerous desperado,
someone to be hated and feared and appalled,
but to all the residents of Fort Sumner, New Mexico
Billy was very fondly adored by all.

I met a girl I may not meet
I love this girl I cannot touch
I love this girl who lives far away
beyond reasonable doubt
we cant ever say
when it will ever start.
It's getting too close
its like I'm in love with a ghost.
She in a life but
not the one I wish to live.
100 times a think of this
and still we kiss we kiss we kiss.
I'm afraid I'm worshipping a mark
that I will never be able to rub off
I want to be honest and tell her
I want her,
And I'm lost because I can't,
I talked to her because I was lonely,
now I'm lonely because I want more.
That's a little bit my fault.

I told her everything,
except when I cheated on her
from across the sea,
because I gotta get it.
I can't help it.
And it kills me to know she prob does the same.

In tonight's dream we met again
but she was with another man
and all I wanted was to leave
this world of dreams and seal
this deal.

So I'm getting too close to a cold sun.
I let myself do this,
here's to you Vic:

Let's be honest,
Let's share life,
Let's be crazy,
Let's be fast,
Let's be slow,
Let's be forever,
Let's be a show,
Let's be the ground,
Let's be the nothing,
Let's be hole,
Let's be the stuffing,
Let's be a team,
Let's be together,
Let's be supportive,
In any weather.
Let's be happy,
we found each other,

Don't cry because it's mortal,
Smile because it had the luck to be.

Let's be the dirt,
Let's be ****,
Let's be a thousand
more days of luck.
Let's be Juillet and Roméo,
Let's be two strangers in the know,
Let's be an ******,
Let's be my dream,
Let's be The light
that can't be seen,
Let's be that thing
you never touch
Let's be the Light that can't be seen
but that you see,
Let's be that thing you can never touch
but that you touch,
Let's be a walkie talkie,
Let's be one,
Let's be a story,
Let's be sung,
Let's be boring,
Let's be numb,
Let's be worried,
Let's be hung,
Let's be something,
Let's be almost nothing
but still something,
(where already that)
Let's be Sumner,
Let's be winter,
Let's be all ages together,
Let's be lucid,
Let's be wise,
Let's be my sister just came back home really sad from failing her exam and It sort of bring me back from reality. One where you have to sign bills and dreams break in pieces. So now I have to get back in the mood of writing this without failing the general idea. I just reread the whole thing and it seems stupid.
Let's be synchronised,
Let's be doubtful,
Let's be sad,
Let's be mad,
Let's be alive,
Let's have a dream
I'm just realising the only reason I'm feeling good is that I have a dream you.
Let's break the boredom,
Let's melt the chains
and make our own
Let's build
Let's break,
Let's gjxzl
djzksls
cjxjs
coco
eosoc
ekdks
cjciwl
vj jzpa
gogo
vic

Deep answers to deep.
As I answer my self who pays the mort-gage
theoretical spin off ona mobius strip
from who uses war
on reality as art, thus artificial, officially
authorized use for brainless mortal minds
projecting
re- ah, rhea, lovely
-- in the future, to the reader
-- use these mentally any where these signal
¿:-,? something more is needed --
-- answers must follow preceding quest ions
not sparked piezo wise
Brakes. Sparks, , more than enough.
ok
Flint to steel, steel to towers, to antennae to now.

Kapow. we have always imagined radio and TV.

We think in ways Issac Newton never did imagine.

Jiggle the prism dangling from my partner's ear.
Rhea bhering all the gods, and there, errors
began, gin being spiritually essential
to geth to gather sense
signals sortive
suggestive

-yes, whatifery, we have that, how much do you wush?

One more breath.
Why?

Why do you ask?
We have a rule.
No wasted breath. Make every signal clear.

The next idle word we speak won't wo not
be spoken as once is wont for any unrefined term.

Time out. Selah. Take a thought.

- we have no angst, thus no anxious thoughts
- should you be shopping for such,
- those are outlawed here,
- theives honor, liars pledged allegiance-con carne
-
- aye, ai, no-- we as words in warring times make
- peace, no concarne mind heresy, see your self
-
do a little out of body experience imagining
you can do it,
melt into your chair, that
is the easiest position to begin
facing forward and falling with no fear,
until
something unnamed as yet no words may be
in the beginning of beginning your
agreement to be mindful of me,
in your secret you stash, your hidden power
valued in talents, specie solid real esse state being
omygoooooooooo
djasay I may break into song, as I see
where this is headed headed up to see
from below what an *** hat I am, at times
out of body low
low as a JD Sumner solo.

A drunken god declared there is, as in
so be it
wine that makes glad.
so be it
wine that makes glad the core of man-made
in my image, goodness of happiness in any time

One more breath,

Listening to Sting’s best:
Ten Summoner’s Tales.
Sting: there’s a lesson in arrogance.
Leaves his band, The Police,
Throws the blokes—
The blokes who carried him,
Put him on the map,
Made him rich--
Throws those same blokes
Off the back of the boat,
Jetsam & flotsam in his wake.
Then starts hallucinating that he's
Geoffrey Chaucer reborn, &
Self-finances a Broadway musical,
Itself a saccharine homage to
Newcastle upon Tyne, land of the
Genetic zygote he once was.
Needless to say: “The Last Ship”
Sank shortly after leaving dry dock.
Hey, Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner:
Who was your financial advisor?
*Bernie Madoff?

Trying to do laundry but the voices in my head call to me from the dark abyss.

The blue sumner sky and light summer breeze somehow make my insides freeze insidiously and I want to hide but my apartment is hardly a lesser nightmare.

No where to hide they are coming for me and so they should I deserve to have the sky coming crushing down on me.

Trust no one. Not even myself. They're coming, where's my knife.

A child for me is a God's seedling
A being plant-like that's newly sprung in spring.
It needs good soil, food and fertilizer
Water, sunlight and proper care:
From parasites it should be free,
For it to grow strong, pliant and healthy.

As time passed by the season change
Summer has come there aint no rains,
The trees were exposed to the hot rays of the sun
Summer is a trial for them to overcome;
Some trees remain blooming with thick foliage
Others wither but have fight till the last.

Some have managed to have some healthy fruits
Others cant even sip a drop of water from their roots,
Some have given up because of the drought,
Others are pallid and remain stagnant from growth;
Some trees are carefree 'cause water they stored
Others are jocund in company cause preparation they wrought.

As summer passed the autumn comes
So all the trees have to change at once
Some are ready from whatever may befall
All of them knew that their leaves will fall;
It's gonna be a hardship for one and all
But they have to struggle and face an autumn toil.

Some trees can't make it, their trunks were bent
Others so careworn and some even lament.
Some tried to make it with all their might
Hoping someday they'll see the light;
And so the trees sticked with their fight
Ready to face anything till the end of the night.

And the night is over the winter dawn breaks
Over the trees trunk fall the snowflakes
The thin barked ones quivered in chill
The amply covered ones remain standstill;
The weather's just the same to those adapted
But to the tyro, a lot of coat they added.

Some have in their trunks a rock of snow
How they're gonna handle it? They don't know.
Some sturdy trees offered their help
To their needy neighbors who yelp for help;
Some sturdy trees even refuse a lending hand
But they never did see the rising of the sun.

When winter is over, welcome the birth of spring
And all of the trees have waxed one annual ring,
In their new birth, they long to zoom
They wanna have some buds for sumner bloom;
All of them yearn for summer boons
Hoping they will survive lots of autumns.

To some trees life's a blessing, to some a bane
And most of them have waxed and waned
Life is an up and down motion it's a law
It's a rule that every tree will follow;
There is a time for reverly, a time for grief
It's not alone for pleasure that we live.

Those afternoons where we'd felt like nothing could touch us again.
Sumner haze and throwing mown grass at each other, faces chubby and pink and elated.
And we'd sit, giggling, wind in our sales and hair.
Watching each other out of the corners of our eyes and catching ourselves with a snort of laughter.
We learned every lyric to Bohemian Rhapsody that afternoon, do you remember?
Singin' mama at the top of your lungs and putting me on the top of the world.
Ready to show every person in our little corner just what we could do.
And you told me about your dreams that day,
While I practiced my air guitar solos. Running my hands through my newly cropped hair.
Those afternoons gave us a new sense of freedom.
Last day of school, fresh out of year 7, and we knew we'd be going places. We were rockstars. We were astronauts. Time travellers. Gangsters. Pirates. Whatever beautiful, fantastical whim took our fancies.
The world was in our hands that day.
Any way the wind blows.
I'd ask you what your favourite words were and you'd laugh at me, but I'd only poke you back. It was dessimate of course. We only ever spoke in references no one else would understand.
Our lives had just begun and there was no way we'd thow away our shots.
I'd leave it all behind in a heartbeat, to be back there with you. To see you laugh like that again. And be able to just be. For one moment.
To be innocent. Naive and vulnerable and happy. To have faith. In myself. To be so sure again. Back when nothing really mattered.
And though they did grow there, we never actually sat under those willow trees.

~for Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner~(1)

my poor battered battler *****, too-many accumulated door dings, broken off pieces
circulating in the bloodstream, even inert artery declared dead, no saving it, that’s just an idée fixe, that cannot be fixed

but no matter misshapen my heart,
and roughly mishandled, it’s a boon
companion, we work together overtime,
falling into love with every third woman
we pass on our walks so regular, and
though many wish my heart to abduct,
no dice, no okay, not playing, for time is
shortened, and there are too many of you,
to longer complete for another, term of
endearment undefined

so many poems to love,
so many to comport and compose,
each a spoke fantasy, a story to unfold,
not forgetting than I am still young enough
to regret skimming to the bottom of another,
and when breath pounding my temples, swift kick to the atmosphere and do it, yes,
once again

do not me critique,
paid my dues as a long distance lover~runner, but know-a-days,
best to live love and run,
for measure I,
by what accomplished
by sunset, a reminder
to say evening prayer song,
and accept that
the sum total of my days
is nearer thy god than thee,,
and to raise smiles upon
the least likely, to break a
throw straight line frown
in a U-turned greeting of love,
however brief,
is a worthy goal
multiplied by the rest,
the rest of my dimming hours

Sting and Eva Cassidy
Walk in Fields of Gold

Gordon Sumner was a teacher
I was too I'm told

Joan of Arc in France
Victorious and bold

Shiva does his dance
Glory to behold!