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Someone recently, generously, commented on my poetry:

“Your poems swing from playful snapshots of orange lipstick and coffee grounds to deeper, soul-level stuff like angels, dry bones, and widening circles. That mix is what makes your work feel alive.”

Yes, I write about all things living,
All things happening in my life,
All things I am pondering
All things that are rife —

But, there is one thing about which I don't write…

L O V E

I am not a love poet like the sublime @onlylovepoetry

Love is what my heart longs for the most — yet it's the one thing I can't fix.

I cannot write about the thing I know the least about,
But, I will croon out the longing and the fight!

I want to write a love poem, but perhaps I need to know love first to even qualify…
Thank you @WilliamAGibson
I am forgivable
I am forgettable
It’s up to you
To just let it go!
Or hold on tight
As long as you can
But you should know
I don’t give a ****
It’s your life
It’s your heart
I never meant to tear it apart.
Still I will not remain in the hell
Of the victimhood
You’re trying to sell.
Traveler Tim
Bold faced fire.
A spark. Some grit.
When challenge comes,
Welcome it!

An occasion to rise to.
Peg forced to fit.
When challenge comes,
Tackle it!

A hill to climb.
Fire to be lit.
When challenge comes,
Conquer it!

When it seems too high in effort or risk,
And the burden it brings is like a ton of bricks,
It’s only your attitude that you need to fix!
When challenge comes, be bold! Be brisk!

And when doubt comes,
Challenge it!
Week three of the weekly poem thing.
 Sep 4 Anais Vionet
Zahra
Love, if unmet, has many lives
it returns as a limbless reptile,
shrouding your chest, closer,
a chain of loops that hurt,
hissing like a snake,
where blood becomes a nectar
and heat, a desire,
until everything
is reduced to skin.
Feels like a curse
An urge to work for
Getting more and more
Of things I can hardly
Enjoy anymore
I seriously need some vacations...
Your love is like a frozen bird, a
feathered stone falling from the sky.
I wish it didn't die.
It should be flying, and soring, and
healing, against the warm blaze of
the afternoon sun--weaving and
diving through the coolness of the clouds.
But it's gone, and all it can do is
plummet and take a few more
birds out, on its way down.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMbrfKP2H38
I did a poetry reading and book signing at the Clear Lake Public Library.  Here is a link to the video on my YouTube Channel.  My books are available on Amazon.  They are Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse, and Sleep Always Calls.
Fiery red
black handle rubber tires

that made shallow tracks
in the grass

when I pulled you from here
to there

we needed each other
I realize that now
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