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Now, Go Back To Sleep!

aging in silence
a dusty old thought,
lost and forgotten,
for a brief
session of peek-a-boo

mysterious as youth
small as a sparkle
yet, echoing through
the quiescence of reflection;
boisterous as a precocious child

'tis but a trifle!

but in this enchanting moment,
beheld, once again,
as a gem of epiphanic vitality.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


This is a brilliant peice of poetry that should be read again and again, absolutely stunning in my eyes. The simplicity but depth of meaning are so cleverly structured. Really enjoyed this read. Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

thank you, Roscoe

your continuing support over the years has been greatly appreciated.

As I have repeatedly said over these same years, I wish responding, and corresponding were easier for me.
I am at a loss in situations like this.; stumbling and stammering for words to express my gratitude.
I hope you can forgive my social clumsiness.

thanks again


author comment

double post


author comment

A grand group of words applied to please the thoughts and eyes.
Good to have you here putting out quality,
Yours as always Ian .T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

It does "look" like poetry, doesn't it?

thank you for your virtual "thumbs up", or maybe "thumbup"?
I don't know what that means, but it is a funny sounding word...thumbup, thumbup, thumbup!

catch you down the pike,


author comment

but our minds as youthful as the spark that woke the signal
tapped out long ago
the looks
the brushes..
the cascade of wants
and adornments

our horses age beneath
our hips
but we rode some of us
the rust
the power of our beasts
to scrapyard
war horses

buried within
like treasures
on reefs
the dare to close
in close


and the youth
whom enliven
and taunt


I remember
What u got?
and now
its my turn
the winter of
my life
the frost
in my hair
at the edges
of my eyes

in the bones
that walked
all the fallow
and ripe

Thank You!

I bet you have a perpetual smile when composing
or while riffing through a thought pattern

The immediacy is so apparent

a consummate jazz musician you would make,
gliding through the changes,
creating new melodies from old,
sliding from delicacy to grit in a single phrase

quite astonishing!

thanks for the privilege of reading your poems
and your extemporaneous comments


author comment

is anyone else having this same problem?


author comment

A shaking hand doesn't help does it????????/ lol
Yours Ian

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

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