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N E Waters May 2013
look at us
dreaming, unsleeping.
Vibrant broken, ever-enlightening youth.

Singing dirges as if we knew the dead,
as if we had no friends.

Shower me with your wisdom,
your ever widening meaning.
Like this fractured mentality wasn't what the world was reaching for.

Pushed past the point of no return,
came back full circle.

maybe this time we'll find an end
or maybe we can meet again at the middle.

Wherever whispers ruled,
that's where I'll love you.

Wherever fear befriended those who stood unoffended, who reached
for something.
Who understood the currencies of blood,
of screaming into the wind;

of challenging the world to ******* harder.
That's where I'll always love you.


My benign chaos.


My finest rage
my purest angst,
my greatest sadness,
my only meaning.

You can't feel unless someone tells you that you're feeling.

When I grow up I don't want to:
I told you I'd wait by the window, all I ever wanted was forever.
I'll never close it, never.

Here, in this sadness, in this panic that what we feel will last forever?
that's where I'll always love you,
forgive you,
wait for you.

dear peter.
The first day of Spring
has me in a mood to
shake my remaining
winter blues

For months, the shutters
have been drawn tight

It’s passed time to crack
open a window and air
out my lingering stuffiness,

shed some natural light
in the corners of me where
darkness has settled

Sweep my mind clean of
the tired bones its been
chewing over

Scrub out the ring that has
formed around the tub from
my wallowing in self-
pity a little too long

Finally release all the
negativity, resentment,
comparison, and doubt I’ve
kept boxed up in my closet

And dust off the gratitude
I’ve been slacking on
practicing – break myself away

from the screen and out into
the bluebird day tugging on
my hair

Already I feel lighter, the
air somehow easier to breathe

I sense my internal scales
leveling again, the heaviness
lifting from my chest like
a melting snowdrift

A moon of many names is
rising tonight: crow,
sugar, worm

Its sign the same for all of us
returning to life beneath it

Who were sure we would
suffocate beneath another
year of our own dirt

Who, in our winter, have
denied our spring

She rouses within us now,
unoffended

Brings with her on the thawing
horizon an answer to our
prayers for a fresh start.

– mrg
Dusty loving lady you are unending
and as they cringe at your smell on the subways cart I focus on your lively eyes
that are unoffended –sauntering the expansive territory of aluminum poles, glass windows and plastic seating where people sit in self-imposed hermitages or absorbed in a phones but your gaze
like that of a hawk
glides over all

— The End —