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Showing posts from January, 2016

Quiet little cry boy

Expend so much, try to Expand this little circle of mine. This little dot I have,  It starts here. Here. Then I battle these demons within me, oh,  Demons, demons, Metaphorical of course.  These that fly, or swim, or... Walk in my head? My mind? Heart and mind. All to say, HI!  HELLO KIND SIR/MADAM Allow me to play the fool to get this friendship going. Allow me to dance and doodle and derogate, so that you may like me just a little more. A little more than you would a stranger, please.  I'll sing, don't worry! I'll share all the bite-sized pieces of truth with you, no, no, it doesn't hurt me at all. No, no.  All smiles, all light-hearted.  Then, fuck-  This term of endearment ends abruptly and I struggle to give you a ring.  Because I'm more afraid of rejection  than loneliness.  13 Jan 2016.

Wheels on the bus go

Clenched fists, heart pounding, teeth glued together as every sinew struggles to break free of its bonds. I imagine fire, a man on fire, not passion, but passionate anger. Indignation. A man on the brink of being blown to bits, who stands trembling under the weight of his own conscience. Fire, red, all steam now. He saw, nay, read, of kids who died in war, Felt a little sadness. Woe. He saw, nay, read, of starving families in a place torn apart by constant strife. He saw, nay, read, of a kid who died of cancer before ever learning of what being an adult meant. He saw, nay, read. Then felt it surge before it disappeared almost instantly. Melancholy he says. Powerless, he explains. Then of the groping in Germany, he felt it again. Imagines an angry man who goes to capture every evil in the world, smites it down with the furious justice only GODS hold. Superman, he laughs. Superman. It mellows, disappears, Disappointed. A boy on a bus keying words on a white screen.

Zugspitze

I eat the windy snow while the sun looks proudly down on me, Or at least I think it does. Wind, all wind, frost, edges and stone. Complete, as it is forever etched - blue and white upon this very earth Perfect. 22 December 2015

Silence with Mama

You sit right next to me, But I cannot understand you. And I do want to understand. Know the life you lived, Know the pain behind the tears you cry. I want to connect with you on that level, you, my kin, my blood. We, who were linked by mere chance, on this earth separated by my mother. You, who carried me through my early years, and now... We are given this opportunity to string words together to create meaning, But I do not understand you, And you do not understand me. 28 November 2015

'Old man...'

You are killing me, fish, the old man thought. But you have a right to. Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother. Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who.  He did not truly feel good because the pain from the cord across his back had almost passed pain and gone into a dullness that he mistrusted. Then the fish came alive, with his death in him, and rose high out of the water showing all his great length and width and all his power and his beauty.  He could see the fish and he had only to look at his hands and feel his back against the stern to know that this had truly happened and was not a dream.   “Go on, galano. Slide down a mile deep. Go see your friend, or maybe it’s your mother.” The boy saw that the old man was breathing and then he saw the old man's hands and he started to cry.