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A man sits alone on the beach
A solitary tear washes down his cheek
The party rages and the lights strobe
But in his soul he is alone

Zachary J Eakin - 7 - 13 - 19


You always will forever be my solar...sol brother...the heartest rap around...spirit constitution a revolution raging thru of Garveys mighty people...I always loved the Thunder and the furrowed brow clouds frozen on your forehead...

Frosty the Legend

A Stock Horse… High Country Bred
Dark Palomino with white patches on his body and head
solid well-muscled body and sturdy big boned legs
strong shoulders a massive muscled rear end

Sure, footed FROSTY would go anywhere
A gallop on the marshes through creeks and riverbeds
Up and down steep and rocky hills, through thick bush and scrub
Nothing would impede his progress he never gave up

He would carry heavy loads of Kangaroo and Deer
A friend to so many on the regular weekend hunt

From Time To Time

He drinks a little
from time to time
it's how he explains
the loss of his mind
The spouting of this
the spewing of that
The blurring of lines
where lies become fact

He's a good ol' guy
he'll tell you so
Good father
husband and friend
Incredibly loyal
honest and true
Always faithful
to the bitter end

My Cat's Name (June Contest)

Inspired by “The Naming of Cats” by T. S. Eliot From Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats ~1939

Untitled scifaiku

ashes of cities left
by burning atmosphere-
a temper tantrum

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Long Nights

Shades of the soul
refusing- - - to close,
another- - - long night.


Mornings infused with autumn now,
vestiges of night cling damply
in dawn -light glow...
... birdsong echoes in hollow rings
through thin pale mist
curling down the ever-green hills...
Just beyond her kitchen window
a tree fern stands
like a one legged triffid
thick moss adorns his southern side
- still damp with early morning dew...
Strange days, she thought
- sweeping rain
heavy showers
scattered sun
gusting winds
- four seasons in one...

A Ghostly Dream

Last night I was visited
by lost boys, I once knew.
Long ago when we were young
their lives were spent too soon.

Taken by a wicked war
the ground soaked with their red
while a government's only interest
was in the counting of the dead.

In my dream their specter
was a ghostly grey and white
all that was left of how
they suffered from the fight.

Then, one boy, I recognized
stepped forward close to me
in vivid living colors
I remembered him instantly.


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