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as eclipse
the light
hovers at
the edge

you meet day
fresh cut from night
you are flush with
nights stars garland
on this soul

a voice of wind
in barren limbs
and i know the cold
comfort you wait
upon me

Editing stage: 


our media fueled paradise
flat screen text machines
fifteen second ads
and three minute music scores

thoreau wrote his work in a cabin
and many wrote by gaslamp
or candle its all been said in
straight out ryhymne and I cant
compete with Bukowski or Sexton
its just small arrangements
pointing out the imaginative

like wandering in a snowstorm
looking at a vision through cataracts
its a spiritual essence I try to
fathom at times sometimes getting
it and sometimes not

Is it Love im describing is it Death
always about the deeper current
Joe thats the greatness about
Poetry abstractions and certianties
abound So happy to return here
and find this Poets Lodge


author comment

its about love narrative thought the swirl
but a different love something not expected
Like the knowing of an eclipse but to actually
see it to feel the cool when that rare event
transpires Pure magic and thats whats
jostling the narrative fast sweep of all
sweet rarity and finding only a notion
of that chill of excitement of foreboding
and unexpected

some people are full of dark
but shine with radiance
the aura

the cool of mystery of why that is
is a comfort but not a blinding

the shine is perplexing and mesmerizing
the power of the draw

(sometimes its not wise to look too long
at such happenings)

thats my poem
about rarity
living the moment of myth
and finding fragments only
to relate

i usually dont tell people
what the poem is about
but I want to share more
this time

author comment

for sharing this with us. it is not often that I get to look at a work of yours, from your perspective. A rare treat, indeed! As always, you write with such depth, that I feel the charge. ~ Gee

Our Chatroom is open 24/7 Feel free to use it for
keeping in touch We have poets around the world and it is fun
to have real-time conversations with those that are up
all night or on the other side of the world.

sometimes the fire faltered Ian
in the trials of darkness and the vantage of light
I learned severly that ones own fire must be
tended but allowing others to warm one is
a must life is never about the end acquiring
for me so many have come and gone
and yet I cannot stop amongst the jewels
of experience that have enlightened me
endeared me and frustrated me
I keep the spark alive through the spiritual
essence I feel on my simple walks downtown
the interchange I have with the few
and of course sharing of this gift
freely here

author comment

Happy New Year to you Esker. How have you been. I really liked this piece of work especially these lines here:

a voice of wind
in barren limbs
and i know the cold
comfort you wait
upon me

warm is the soul to comfort the cold
Great writing

Mona Magics

sometimes intuition sidles up to me
like a good player at the tables
(teamwork sometimes is a neccesary
and that thrill of knowing that the ride
wont be so lonely is a chill
of excitement..

author comment
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