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CODEX

syntax futility
lunchpail etched journey
your letters
poetry..not even some change
i could lift for a coffee
How you could enter a room
and take it
I envied
Latching the lid closed
why keep such empty baggage
from some old cancelled television
show....
somewhere in there was a letter
I'd written during a weak moment
My handwriting I didnt recognize
humoring the sad soul till
with shock I saw my signature
which cannot be duplicated

Like looking at graves and finding
your name
suddenly the open window
was too much
I shut it
throwing on a sweater

I would fuel up the Oldsmobile on
restless nites like this
taking my passengers
whom would sleep or chatter
feet on the dash...in summer
arm out the window
bringing their mixed cassettes
singing along....
stop to hold each other against
the front clip
listening to the exhaust talk as
it chilled....I would watch the
skies overhead...an ear to
the woods and fields
listening to the crickets....
the hiss of winds and darkness
sweeping over..
tired..we would make love
falling asleep to dawn
the birds waking us
and the sleeping car
shrouded in fog

She still keeps my ring
and I remember
our dinner
extravagant and expensive
her treat
the sadness hanging
between us
impotent

a layer in a box
priceless advice

...

Editing stage: 

Comments

It's good to read from you again. It's been too long! You've really captured the feeling of old letters and memories, bittersweet and often painful, like visiting the gravestone of someone long gone.

One small phrase doesn't fit the feel for me, from what I can garner from the poem: "restless nites". Sometimes "restless" for me is just agitated and sleepless, but this moment feels like more than that. I can't say for certain because it isn't my experience. "Uneasy" maybe? I'm not sure. What do you think?

"Like looking at graves and finding/
your name" --> like so much of your writing, this could be the catalyst for a lot of amazing rock and soul music, I think. I have always envied how easily musicality comes to your writing. Remind me, do you play an instrument? Had a band? I feel like we've discussed this many times, but my memory is terrible. :)

Kelsey

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ur so brilliant
restless...yes..token word
you can feel there is much more
going on then just that mere word

what is making the poet narrator restless
why is the poet driven on this word quest
how can he see the grave like memory
things put to rest that have passed
but you know WHEN the spirit stirs
it is enlivened once again
who is the ghosts in the poem
the narrator the poet

nothing new...

but your right
restless is the fulcrum

very smart...love that...
part of whats going on in
my head
i will come back to this
its an excellent question
the poems very personal

thank U kelsey...

steven

author comment

love the development of your Look! the soft sepia and fierce yet strong character
resonates resplendent of your Pic! I love style..clothes....

Music....my memory is riddled with holes like an old ravaged fuesilage from a fusilade
and spelling has always been a struggle...no math...so no number feel for music
free plunking on strings i can do....like rain falling on a hubcap...piano music i can
muster....if I really spent time I know I could play music...but like that would be like
having a true working relationship....or perfecting the poems...
I live on the edge..makes people nervous...

I just have no filters...no barrier walls from youths experience...raw...so I am keen to
the people...sounds...lights...smells...moods....see things in high def...and miss the
soft tone moments of inter connections....why I was freak like...
the genius of what brilliance inside just drove me here and there somehow surviving
which I am still doing to this very day of today!
I love weather..the moon....stunning heat wave summer....wind in the grasses..rain
in the limbs...moon...wind through the privacy slat plastic chain link fence...sound of
the welding yards steel scraping off the forks of the lift truck in mornings..neighbours
my Bunni in morning banging out the keurig ground coffee.....everything...

I read poetry here and get much from it....but taking it from the inner lands to the
making of something relatable in meaning so all can understand has been the
biggest work...

I loved rhyme...we had so many read to us as kids....it calmed us down...led us to
sleep the lull of that music of words....still does...
music....i heard no lyrics in music.....only meeting people who were focused
they took me like a blind person letting me 'see' the lyrics and explaining the
artists word for word..note for note....took me years..
now I love techno..trance..thrash..hop of the hip..old hard rock I get now
and indie music...overwhelming often..

and language...the way witty people play with words....i love laughter..
although im come off as serious and sad...which I truly am..I LOVE being
delighted by people and the random spontanaity of the sketchy numbers

today...im working on my legs this year....carrying groceries....food bank
stuffs in this backsack..fifty pounds give or take twenty up or ten down
a fifteen pound army back...twenty pound leather jacket...orange cord pants
dress shirt....gangster hoodie..alah russian mob..a big rabbit fur hat
slavic looking...ray bangs...got this grey beard happening and sixties long
hair.....talking to people...riding a pink mongoose bike...good bike..my step
daughters old ride...shes up north...her first apartment with a decent fellow
two jobs...makes more then me....rides got white forks...actually the nicest
riding ride of all the ones i had...all broke...need of repair..no money...
but rich in people..experience....

am i for real....yes...the cool people are rare....
creative zest....all wanting that look and talent...
all photos of the great poets..they were dressed
well...true characters....u could see it in theiir eyes
and sayings..

happy to see you back again!
Mr Wolf!

thank U Kelsey!

author comment
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