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Alas minute coil magneto hand

the walls listen
the cups blow down the lonely part of town
In the hours of head space
a television moans
a captivated audience bound
bright eyed
watches hand
betrayer logic
love sickness
a happiness
like layers
dust upon the worry
dust upon the freckles
of moments
slipping through
and mirror selfies
invisible and
visible waves

Feel the moment
of the Pinch
the delicious medicine
will climb in and calm
the flames
and you can perform
Jump through flaming

the sting of the whip
are seconds ticking
off your tail
as you hump it down
the dark trail
feeling all the
tiger eyes
on the lithe perfection
come to unwind
hearts election


Editing stage: 


I Bow to a master, poetry executed as only you can

a bloody pleasure to read now I am going to get a piggy back off the sandman and take a ride into sleeps hands

love Jayne xox

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

Jayne....a true poetic line! "Piggy Back" A fun thing...humans expressing strength and trust...If you are not piggy backing then you are slung over a shoulder like an impala or a deer...Being six foot and working construction and staying in shape I can hoist up and carry what I need....Perhaps not for far like some....enough to bring a smile! Correct on construction Oh my..That was twenty years ago!! We would carry one hundred fifty pound rock mounts bundled together.....We could have hurt ourselves but No....Fits of strength we called it not feats....You were suppose to dash the band with a hatchet and carry them and the bag of bolts to the truck or trailer.....If you are carrying someone up stairs then you know....A/ the carried will if Carrier teeters..will B/ grip about the neck the carrier and all will dash down the stairs in a heap...But then thats part of the trill....I had a girl I knew...she was six feet tall....I was six feet tall....We were always daring and up too no good....I could with some effort fetch her up there and cart her along for a spell.....Her eyes all wild and dazzled were worth the pounding heart!!

There is a sensuality of writing I enjoyed much....I heard a word today..forgot it at the moment but it was excellent....Molten...there we was used to describe the very shiny look of material...They worked with metals but of course I thought of vinyl...latex...and my jackets are all shoes I like...Nothing like it... The long hair now...wrap around glasses....I got them at work singing whistling while we work and thinking aloud....They come up with some good phrases..Its like wavelenghts of creative sorting....Almost like a tourettes of ideas.....

Bedtime stories....induction to linguistic skllls and articulation and elocution and role playing...Everyone has all the characters down pat and voices....

Thank You for this comment....A very insightful and fun one Jayne!!

Thank You!

author comment

A lot of times you're a bit inscrutable for me but i always enjoy your stuff. Perhaps that's enough, that the subliminal part of my dusty brain appreciates what my usual self can't........stan

Literally paperbacks to devour

poets I wanted to be were more clever
more trained...more educated and put
in far more the effort..
I had to be slunk about the corners
and getting splashed by the traffic
of the puddles I could not avoid

sipping coffee watching others enjoy
the fruits and labor of life
Enjoying the free treats the working others
like me were handing out when the bosses
were not cheese
slice on my buddy burger..and more...
the spritz of dark heady perfume
and conversation before heading off
with a plateload of dishes or an errand
across town..

Experience cannot be made in a room
or gleaned from television watching
the typewriter can be coaxed like a piano
to speak but its song is a derivative of
what..where we have been..what we want
to push ahead like a ideal..

Its not for everyone...
and Im not....the poet persona took over
my own lesser persona
and I had help...Here is a jacket..
wear these pants...the women styled me
when I failed at it..
Short hair had to go
Read this book...something dirty and atrocious
with a deep lesson about surviving and existing
not the fancy artful milled out milleau I wanted to
believe in...

Listen to this music throbbing and rasping..soothing
explicit lyrics set to subwoofer thump tempo drop..
"Its how it makes us feel" the lyrics they said..
"ITs the speed that is Fun" said the biking companion
running wide open on the bike trails...I was sweating
and panting and we stopped for raspberries from
the vine while others passed.....The sunlight falling
like leapord spots across her smiling beaming face...
I had kept the almost cost of collapse..

ask me how many cars Ive gone through..some rare
non expensive lines and some rare mid this and that
bottom entry sedans with some tweak ordered I found
second and third hand....
How many typewriters I had owned..rare...that I gave
away..loaned out..never went back for when I left
or got kicked out...

I was almost married job that
could have gone on...I lacked so much and in gaining
what I wanted to have and didnt then to live normal
was given earned the hard hard route...and of course
by others slowly showing me their worlds...
full of the fairy tales of dark.....My reality was sunshine
and softness.....which exists...
but so does the other....

The writing continues..
and so it shall...
I enjoy the writes of others in the woods
because they see what I see but not in the same
manner nor way..They see more when I read
they give me what I need when I got back to the
woods..the world...

the world is much more

Thank You!

author comment
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