Epigram On Love In Simile

Confessing:  I chafe at the provenance
that governs some of my love poetry---
to make it an extended simile
that tells me, with the sharpness of a strike,
"Only imagine what it must be like---
"having the most not once."

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To Be

the outrageous fortune

that stirred me about

in this mess of swill

I call my life

I cannot explain

it just appears

on the page

for the amazement of all

don't make lite

of what you don't understand

be more lenient

and open your mind

for what I say

I really don't mean

or is it the other way round

I don't say

what I really mean

thoughts twist me about

into an unreal mess

I have to hold on

in this unholy tryst

to be is not a thought

but an act of will

the only reality

that keeps me still

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Everything Today


everything today

is about the entire enterprise

front and back

inside and out

when your mouth won't stop

when you cannot let go

when you cannot stop reacting

when you cannot stop thinking

you are sad about yourself

inferiority complex out of control

just repeating and no where to go

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No Response...

I wish you could see

Whats going through my mind

With my "unrealistic" actions

Driving toward a realistic time

You say I'm wanting "serious"

But you haven't give me the chance

To really show you who I am

And find the time to dance

Through the life we've both been living

Through the fun we both seemed to have

Through all of the "complications" you mention

But none of them which I've seen us have

Other than the things you've said

And the simple things you do

What about the things you've felt

Which are now hidden on account of you

You've found yourself wrapped up

In arms that wont let you down

You've found yourself kissing fingers

Of the hands from out of town

You've found yourself face to face

With someone who gave a damn

To challenge the rules and get to know you

Just because he knew he can

I don't know what's holding you back

Or if and when you'll let go

But please don't forget who I am

If you ever find the urge to truly know

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I'm not asking about tomorrow

Just about today

Would you be so kind and help me on my way

Make me smile

Just for a little while

Keep me busy

So i cannot see

The journey that lies ahead

Its not easy coming back from the dead

But I intend to try

Don't ask me why

The road always leads me here

To a hot flame and a cold beer

Such is the attraction of hell

Stuck inside my minds cell

But I like it hot

So why the hell Not?

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At The Display Of An Ancient Inscription

On the morning of our most perfect day,
she stepped out to enjoy the sunlight.
She wore her new, long, very modest skirt,
and the fishnet stockings she loved the best
(small, black mesh, and the toes woven in with black silk).
and not even the slightest thought of shoes,
or of a top---more than her long wild hair---
to cover her nubile adolescent breasts, bare
for both my pleasure and hers.
She brought me a sprig of lilac:
we both loved the scent.
This brief pause in the brief frenzy of first, young love
dominates my memory;
and every subsequent moment is measured by it,
is measure by it and found wanting beside it.
I lived, and she did not:
that is the only way to say so and retain
some semblance
of sanity and equipoise.
I lived, and she did not;
some forty years gone;
the better taken, and the worse
left behind.  She lives in every verse
I have written---from scholars and poets, minor acclaim;
not mine but hers.  They still say her name.
She is not lost in the might have been;
in my poems, until death unites us, we frolic again.

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wish you were here

My Poems

wish you were here

to say hello to me

wish you were here

to make me smile

wish you were here

to help me through my strife

guess maybe i should try

to survive

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i stand alone

surrounded yet alone can be the most liberating place of all...

i stand alone

without a home

watching the last one find a bone

as onlookers cheer on seeking a new shone

but there is nothing that's unbearable no matter how bad or wrong

i once asked for another to see their reflection in me

asked were my tears cloudiness causing we not to see

no more tears no more begging and no more lies

or repainting the vision i see to prevent our goodbyes

a beauty exists within my heart that is overshadowing my whys

my eyes are open

my mind is not blind

i see it may be time to leave many behind,

don't feel like i'm lost

and do not choose a side

for in this world the gaps are wide

pray for the best

and seek to be blessed

holding those poisonous tongues

it only takes once to discourage the pain

of wars that are not yet done

so speak life and live love

let actions speak as bygones become bygones

for the truth has arrived

to override false happiness derived

from half hearted attempts at the norm

if it is peace that i want it is joy i should seek

to sit still in the pain is to prove i am weak

i stand alone

in a cloud of thrones

who wish to be shones

and have their bones

hidden inside my own

holding my words my thoughts and my belief

that the one who loves me will be my relief

from the hole in my heart  from the tears in my eyes

His softest touch causes my eyes to dry

His gentles whisper clears up all the lies

the clouds that shroud me make things look like they are not

but i'm still in the middle for this is my spot

if i tell you my life you would wail and snot

how a ripened tomato just sat and rot

but there is no point to relinquishing my cot

i sleep in it, i made it and it is mine

as my glow from within causes me to shine

Author's Notes/Comments: 

he moved on and now i will too, but i see all the little painful things those who claim to love me will do... yet i still stand alone in joy!

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Epigram On Private Metaphors

The sunlight of our adolescent years
was cut off by the gayer, grimmer shade
beneath the branches of the poisoned tree---
its trunk well-rooted in sorority
(hers, with the whoredoms of adulterry).
Fruited, it thrived for more than a decade,
watered repeatedly by all my tears,
and nourished by the compost of my fears.

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