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Ode to the Guard

I am a cloud of probabilities,

the infinite number of versions of self.

There are moments of presence

when I know all of them collapse in one.

It could be pleasant but most of the time

precisely knowing who I am hurts.

I send the thought to the back of my mind

and continue my blissful absent-minded

gliding over the hills of time.

 

George.

When squares disappear
and edges burr,
when a root of the round
abounds.

When anathematic steel
succumbs to rust

Then, horsepower will
revert to horse and –
the kingfisher
will truly be king.

And the trees will thrum
and grasses dance
in the old bluebell wood,
the oak
the ash
the elm
everything will be
as it should --
with the green man-
at the helm.

Radio Man

Back in the Summer of eighty five thank God I was still alive
music was filling the streets as I chilled by the strip
here's the trip many girls were dressed with flames both were not ashamed
the innocence of the day as I raged in a cage
there was folks with love swinging on its sod
there he stood the radio man with stereo in his hand
would rap to his music calling it sonic fusion cause he knew what he was doing
Break dance pants and folks playing hacky sack gave me a heart attack

The Long Gift of Time

There are those days
That feel like getting stuck
Behind a double wide trailer

Like getting caught
In a swirling eddy
In the river of life

Like being put on hold
That damn elevator music
And the message repeating

“We’re sorry for the inconvenience,
We’ll be with you
As quickly as we can”

"Please stay on the line"

As quickly as you can
Can feel slower
Than petrification

But those days become
Fossils

Banners across the back
Of our lives

PRE NINTENDO

I travel back in time once more
by way of aroused memory
using that fantastical door
to revisit the childhood me.

To young woods on my uncle's farm
beside two track road which ran a ridge
on a bright fall day middling warm
barely in view of an old bridge.

There reclined an old sawdust pile
and a huge rusty old saw blade;
no house for nearly half a mile
a hundred yards to closest glade.

Me And The Guys

my friends and me are kind'a dopey
not all that pretty neither.
we don't notice much around us
'cept when someone gets a brand new car
or stupid hat
stuff like that

we do the same sort 'a things
decade to decade
ball games, barbies, cards
shootin' the breeze
raggin' on each other
sometimes a little rough
but always friendly intended

Roots to Resolution:

First are people truly unfortunate
Who are denied the right to return home
Their native land stolen by fickle fate
In an unwelcome world they live and roam

Second are persons desperate to leave
Cannot flee and are constrained to remain
They continue to exist while they grieve
For an elusive dream they won’t attain

Third are those who emigrated abroad
They choose to reside in a foreign land
As many their good fortune may applaud
At times they feel the loss of motherland

Love and Poetry ( reviewed)

LOVE IS the essence of all existence
central to all humanity
anywhere

I exhort you all
read some of love
and
romantic poems
and
smilingly see

how love flows like a river
from one to another
like it does to the sea

but mistake it not for sex
did you not love your mother
sister daughter aunt and cousin
if not
then you must learn
first, the spelling of love

meaning will come thereafter

/\/\/\/\/\ [Unpoetic]

My thoughts don't walk straight line
they thrive on electrolytes
to purge the calm
transporting me into
asymmetrical zigzags

I prefer an elixir
to be bitter sweet
than bland

I

I left this world today
I didn't bother to pray
I stormed the gates of heaven with delight
I walked upon the pearly gold streets
I was upset their was no one I knew
I didn't have a clue
I knew in my heart I asked Jesus in
I was wrapped up with emotion
I cried and bit my lip
I knew at that moment that God was my full trip
I cried so much I felt frail
I stuck my finger in his nail scarred hands
I watched as those were thrown into the lake of fire
I should have spoke up before I would retire

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