There are days when my capacity for anguish runs thin
I can’t grok suffering as deeply as once I did,
In those carefree days of work and timelessness
Lacking the necessary sense of direction to ask
Is this place where I find myself truly mine?
I’d gladly rehash now this desultory vision
To fill the desperate need of balance and calmness
But it always occurs too late to be changed.
Who can tell why the autumn brings this anxiety
In a hindsight, what looks like a budget movie, poorly directed
As if I’m passing some young guy
On a shady street, in a lunch hour
In whom I would never recognize myself
With whom I don't have a word to share.
"As the leaf of life sleeps upon my lips,"
I will see the "foliage of farewell."
"When the soul-stars dream and die,"
I see red leaves covering the fall trees.
"O fall, let this lore of love be the last,"
for I now see "I am the Eyes of Time."
The green leaves must change colors for the fall,
but "neither dusk nor dawn can delude me."
Over the years, looking across the tables at you
ambiance may change
meals range from simple
to aromas meandering tropical islands
roaming ports of call in far-off lands
the little Diner of long ago
caught in a torrential downpour
afterwards the petrichor aura
riding home with you
there remains that infrangible moment
when your tableware searches for another morsel
caught up in a moment intent
looking up, your eyes meet mine
a Duchenne smile adorned by doves perching
upon the Cupid's bow you wear
the moment i am reminded
reaching across the table
the oxytocin in touching your hand
rainbows are forever
Eugene 8/25/26
but while walking through
the botanical gardens in Florence
it was all my husband
could focus on
He told me as we huffed it up the hill
that they built a cemetery on top
for morons like us
Neither of us looked up
at the symmetry of trees
or the truest blue
of the Mediterranean
that winked at us
in clean clarity below
Ten years of marriage
equates to hiking up a hill in July
and sweating in the hope
of something special ahead
“Keep walking, less talking”
I told him
Every turn brought another hill
Even the air was tired of constant providing
We didn’t find squirrels
but there were plastic chairs
next to the cemetery
Hymns we hum are our own version.
We cast aside the ancient,
dogmatic liturgy,
For the hymns we hum are our
own version,
Symphonies forged in the
crucible of autonomy.
No longer chanting the
antodisestablishmentarian
strains,
We orchestrate an unyielding,
revolutionary resonance.
Every breath breathes a
nonconformist hallelujah,
An uncompromised,
multidimensional manifestation
of faith,
Dismantling the
institutionalized, authoritarian
altars.
We sanctity the beautifully
unconventional spirit,
Our voices rising in glorious,
independent ascension.
IRAN MAKES TRUMP SORE
NOW CANADA TARIFF WAR
YOU ARE PAYING MORE
The patriot platform, have come to the fore.' In England, making an impact
Of that i am quite sure' can they bring
Co-hesion? Lift a country of of its floor.?
They say they are non-violent, and shy of
Politics/law..I can't see an easy road at all.'
So many promises have fallen through.'
Can they steer clear of the banksters
Usurious; fell and foul.that is so true" Then maybe
Just maybe? they can get their land out of
The hole its entered, with right actions and stromg hands , to the plough. They
Need to be, and stay as people centered.'
Dreamers are the worst.
They promise you the world,
When they don't have their own.
Dreamers never keep their word.
Never long-term.
They never see tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Dreamers hope for better than they have.
But they never understand the path.
Of pain.
Dreamers are so often alone.
All banished from home.
The same.
Dreamers will all one day die.
The hopeless lay beside.
Lost there.
Dreamers never get finality.
Could they understand reality?
Nightmare.
Dreamers smile and cry.
Swept by a bloody tide.
Shark.
Dreamers are the worst.
I am left with nothing.
From scratching a living,
mighty civilisations rose.
The first idiot
to get on the back of a horse knows
more than all
the philosophers pontificating.
The stupid step forward
while everyone else is waiting.
Thankfully,
the smartest could never persuade
the foolish from all
the bad decisions they made.
Holy spirit you are welcome
In my life
I am stand still
Like a rooted tree
Old like me
Please don't chop me down
Don't I have the right to live?
Why
I am very old
One you cut me down
There won't be another tree
That will replace me
Some say, 'There is no such thing
as coincidence,'
but I beg to differ,
for it has been my experience,
several I know have been seen,
and need no persuasion,
at the same place and time as me,
randomly, on more than one occasion.
Tossing a coin,
or rolling the dice,
the results may/may not
be identical twice.
Call it what you will; 'fate',
'serendipity' or 'happenstance',
but, whomsoever wrote the script,
is of the most significance.
Continuity
Seems the glue
For a story..
No continuity
May seem as
Chaotic..but
Unpredictable
Happenings
Seem what's what..
What are stories
Anyway?
I am right here with you,
What on earth are you talking about?
"Why aren't you buying me dinner?"
I never dreamed
There would be a poisoned dart
In the meal you bought me in the past.
You seem to be guiding me.
As if you are watering
A sprouting, budding shoot—
Yet the moment I turn my back,
You fling another poisoned dart.
A season changes.
Once again, you buy me a meal.
Sweet words,
A sweet smile.
'Right, surely not. I must have been oversensitive!'
Feeling good, I speak up!
I bought a Porsche.
Instead of a poisoned dart,
You spit out poisoned words.
"Did you rent that car?"
assuming our heart is satiated
we shed our mask and don a cloak of light
commingled with bliss beats unabated
that thus beyond space-time drenched in delight
we look at the world afresh with clear sight
but although now diminished is our fear
we nurture desire so we are still here
Chick - Chick - Chick - Chick - Chicken!
Write a little verse for me.
You've got romance in you
To share for all to see.
Chick - Chick - Chick - Chick - Chicken!
There's no need to shy away.
Let the juicy ink get flowing
Steam a saucy verse today!
As you've said, I'm Chick - Chick - Chicken
Could my face burn brighter red?
I'm afraid these special verses
Are only for my book and in my head.
So... this little Chick - Chick - Chicken
Will keep clucking on her funny way.
If she stews some saucy verses
She will send them to you private-lay...
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