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wordvango May 2018
you me and
blue
transitions
and far off horizons painted with wishes
one day....
we always say

tracing palms with fingers
soothsaying or prophesizing
cards played
wide-eyed amazed
grazing at life's tender
shoots

when as always it all
is so much simpler
than the mortal life
absolves on
a daily day all
tormented coiled inside
are ten million squirms
for every cry

never one answer

but one eternal theme
that rose blossoms true
and the vernal winds cool
once came a blue
on a storm's distal
view

and for every glint
of the sun comes a
distant hologram on the eye
a corresponding elegant
glow that lasts

into your visage a sign
that not all life and reality is
destined at once
to be recognized
just take things at face value a wary grace
faith if you will

and see
the sky
blue

that's all  my wisdom
wordvango May 2018
fabrics
patterns
silk
cotton
bolts
needlings
and
weaves
wordvango May 2018
only as a tongue does as
a mind thinks as a clock ticks
as a face slick with perspiration
clicks on some rhyme I'm

word processing

transforming ringing phrases
one way
into alphabets and parlayed
transitions

coded arrived soon on desks
in hearts spanning decades
transcribed
thinking

along a way inconceivably
furled coiled condensed
meant technologically
unthinkable

immensity unable to
be seen without getting
mentally naked cold alone
dense

paths unfooted go that
way along a dry step one foot
forward two back
discoveries

you must sense more than see
an analogy
patrolling the edge
of reality

and really what is was
what was is but
must that be

I set out on a quest
to find the boundaries
oft kept
only by a dream

or fantasy and how then
I might make it
were I
omnipresently

competent
  May 2018 wordvango
L B
Stars
So many!
opened the sky above the ocean
A map
of night's heaven held
with the tailings of day

...and the pink moon
content  
with the toys
left by spring peepers
was playing in the dark woods
across the road

waiting for its mother
  May 2018 wordvango
Charles Bukowski
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but it was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."

I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough

one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.

"you can make it," I said to him.

he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.

you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...

and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"

but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"

"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"

I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...

it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.

he too knows it's ******* but that somehow it all helps.
The tender song of your soul
flows to me with such ease,
feeling your spirit embrace me
like the kiss of a warm breeze.

A soft flowing melody
like a rivers grand design,
flowing water reflects love
tween your soul and mine.

The elegant flow of water
like loving words we speak,
causes my heart to pound
or grow blissfully weak.

That flowing whisper of love
from sweet honeyed lips,
caress my soul gently
like soft moving fingertips.

The tender song of soul to soul
a loving melody of treasure,
with our souls proclaiming
“A Love of now and Forever.”
~
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