This is my grandfather
Or rather
It's his grave
You see
there's just the thing
that he and I never meet

He died before I was born
He didn't even meet his grandson
none of the grandchildren
did he meet
tho' he had always whished for it

So this cold stone
which is covered by grass
is the only kind of grandfather
which I ever had...

For ever distent
That's how I must seem
Never grasping of what you can do for me
But that's not how I am
I am thear when you need me
Just never allow you to know it 
That's how I am
You run in my blood
You are my life 
And you don't know it 
You thank I don't see what you can do
But I know all to well
You grasped my heart the first time I saw you
I can't deny how much you changed my life 
I can't demand for you to understand
My heart
But I ask you to seek the truth of the extent I'm willing to go for you
To see I would end my life just to see that smile
Just to cerest you in my arms
I am nothing more than my love
And my love is you

Childhood,

                   Such sweet everlasting blindfolded years.
          Where, we didn’t care who you were
                   We didn’t care where you from
                   We were just happy to have you as a friend.
Where the only type of love we yearned for
          Was the one given by our mother and father

How I remember those wonder-filled days,
          Where the only thing we whined about was,
                   Having more sweets and staying up later.
          Where the only thing we whished for was,
                   Having two front teeth and
                   Wanting to grow older.

Wanting to grow older so we could,
                   Buy a magical car to take us anywhere in the world!
Wanting to grow older so we could,
Buy whatever we god ****** felt like buying without our parents questioning our insanity!

But…
          What was so great about growing up?
Heck, when we got to that stage in our life,
We wished that we could build a time machine to go back to the past and relive those simpler days.

BUT!
          ITS TOO ******* BAD SUCH A THING DOESN’T EXIST!
          It’s too ******* bad that we live in a world of reality where it crushes our fantasy
          It’s just…
                   Too god ****** bad,
                             That when we grow older, our hearts grow wider…
                                      And the love we receive from our parents…
          Just isn’t enough.
So,
          Let me formally introduce my self,
          I am the loveless creature
Who was always told never to look at the  Moon,

Because it would forever remind me of me and you.
Because when ever I did look at the moon,
          I’d cry at its beautiful presence
Because its so ******* elegant to look at
          Yet its too god ****** far away to be with.
I couldn’t be like the stars that always surrounded its elegance
I couldn’t fly up to the moon because every time I tried,
          I ended up falling after breaking through Earth’s atmosphere
          Crashing and burning onto the ground.

Because I,
Am like many lonely hearted, hopelessly romantic, empty hearted people in Earth’s room who always wanted the warm fuzzy feeling of someone holding their hand
Of someone holding them in their arms
Of someone just being there for them when their world is crashing down on them.
I,
Am, like many people who have those awkward weird feelings of seeing everyone around them coupling off one by one,
Leaving you stranded all by yourself in a lonely corner entitled “Loveless Creature”

Yet,
          In that corner,
                   I always saw that devilishly looking moon
That always ******* stared down at me because I would never be able to reach the skies and become a star so I too can surround its elegance.
And I am always fearing that this dark corner I sit in
          Would forever become my “home” because I feared that
          I will forever remain a loveless creature.
Because I will always be a loveless creature…

So,
Can I please go back to those beautifully filled childhood days where all I ever required and needed was the love I received from my parents and even the graceful loving moments being surrounded by friends who never coupled off

Can’t my corner be a little bit brighter?
          So I can endure the pains of being an empty hearted creature?

Because, walking through those cruel ugly hallways
          Is just making me suffer.
Because, seeing that god awful moon
          Is just causing unwanted tears.

Heh,
          I guess its just the feelings of a loveless creature.
So,
Allow me to apologize to my friends who already found someone to complete them because I am unable to feel truly happy for you.
I am sorry that when you say, “I love you as a friend,” it never really filled the emptiness in my heart,
And for ******* cramping your style,
Because I cannot truly smile
Sorry for being entitled as the loveless creature,
And for having ****** up emotions
Sorry for crying when I looked at the elegant moon,
And for reading to you to you a disgusting depressed poetry about how ridiculously loveless I am!

And…
For those who are lonely hearted, hopelessly romantic, people who need to fill that empty void in their hearts,
Sorry that we all mostly feel the same
And that life put us in this cruel game,
But…
          Maybe in the future, not so far…
          We will become a star,
          Shinning ever so brightly
          Next to the one elegant moon
          That will forever complete that emptiness in our hearts.

At night I look up at the stars wishing you were here every time your no I want to cry. I loved you and you didn’t know it now it seems like you ignore me but yet we said we’d always be friends. My heart pumped when u were near me I felt happy I didn’t want it to end I saw a shooting star and whished on it but my whishes are only for you . I whispered your name and then closed my eyes and when I opened them looked your still not here. Not even shooting stars can bring you back. I know now that all the promises me made are officially broken.

Happy Birthday, they called to her
As we met up with friends in common
At a later chapter of our first date.

She hadn't told me.
I hadn't done the research.
I should have known,

I admitted -unnonchalantly- before
She kissed me for the first time
And whispered:

I got what I whished for...

for my darling jan*

I woke at 2.30am and left you sighing gently as you slept,
checked the trap but found only droppings on the floor
I set the trap again and hoped the rats would leave –
I would prefer not to **** anything.
The dog mawed and moaned at its fleas
rubbing against the rail on the back verandah,
it settled when I whished it back inside to sit
(my mouth made that wist noise, the one you know the dog will hear but won’t wake the sleeping).

I lay on the red couch in the study and read Ray Carver.
A return to Carver simplifying me. If not by sleep I was
comforted by his weave of innocence and knowledge.
Ray started writing poetry in the year I was born (1957),
I don’t know why I mention this, perhaps I feel him like a kindred
spirit and am warmed by even the slightest connection.

Between the living and the dead are the sleeping. However being at rest
is no excuse for ignorance. Ray is at rest - some 18 years.
His poems like me are alive and breathing.

The magpies begin their morning carol as I return to bed at dawn.
Your breath and skin have waited for me.
When we wake, I tell you,
I am grateful our poem continues.



MChallis © 2010/2014

Nature Wonders

The morning
It was a blue
Wild animals
Whished
They had coats
Like the humans
The sun thawed
Raindrop big as balloons
Exploded on
Impact
Many cars
Were damaged
Rainfall
From a clear
Sky
The sun
Dried its own tears
Dogs barked
Came out of barns
The day
Continued as before

( I meant to paste the link, but it may all be here, ir there https://kenpepiton.com/?p=1291 it is an hour take, at time to spare)

Take the wish to be told and offer it
in storyland happiest
place we wish were was ifery wasifity real

that feeling early childhood film projected
sub-30fps
signals did not fit the bandwidth

at the time,
are any of us here, asked a cop,
he looked at me, said ohyer one o'those
and let us pass, Blue and I, a magic night
in story land allowed
where luck is not a factor, this is real,
mystics prayed this way, in scribbling
honest gnosis neosis snot tstoo til ever
curses,
foiled again.
Tin hats in the realm of watchers, hmmmm
elect-trick lady land in story land,
and exit,
if you will you may, here we have that rule.

Enjoy your time, all the attention you never
paid is how each idle words switches back
to we all know that
dummy. The Joy of {the idea enclosed} in what
you
thought fit there, the proto-noun-sound-suc
cess point. nada
point made.
and we know we know the game,
and we know it's not the same, this time
it is always the other way,
better next times, come to roost, with
an egg to lay
or a bone to pick, we hear
we know what giant steps lead to
from the spot
after when was thougnt.
right.
that thought to now, that fast in 2021.
Any kid can think it,
why didn't I?

Ah, Keds, the runfastsneakers past
in the cheap jaycee penny box, ah ha,
madjawink
think we steal the thought that brought
one of us,
once
this far, in total bliss, as life passes, nada
t'bitchabow budda doit any way
suffer,
let'emall sufferessot'be

fiction, trial run, it is a stream, gone steady,
in the old, meandering river shifting
fords from one place to another,
after the dams, I forgot, formative years
gears, scorned as folly,
golly
watch those would you look, I have seven
grandchildren, all who love, who has measure
to give that worth
to time and chance, give and take, make an oath

and, dam
that broke, who do we think we be, tv oath bound,
when you wish upon a star that is
Jiminy Cricket, listen, if you are a country kid being
test by the app on dad's phone,
grandpa calls who sees first, man or app…

John Henry, right, same page, new age.
Ambit by ambit
a little bit closer now… flex time,
look the game gate, it opened at 291000000
million, right. so if we re new, we know if we wer there
were, weird effects of maturing humans choosing stories
on a trail, my own twelve year old child,
lacked the father who is the narrator now

suddenly feel the white stripes are snow
cold as ice wake up drink water re think now then

--- facts of life only readers use, fishing tornado

blow my mind in time to see, twenty-twenty-one
fo'sho'

radioman, alive in the debitted digital experincepinch

are you awake in there?
You wanna come out, to play from om in we be
sin-cerely let go to be
as jappuyappyhappy as one wisht'be
first star
see, once that game really meant things
we can imagine like winning the lottery, then
seeing the end and changing it for the better
on purpose this time, the ancient war
comedy or tragedy,
for the drama post-arena, who shall bow
fore final curtain on this day
for all we may whished day was night. 2021.