The stream (all workshops)
I sit here with a mangled heart,
And I apologize for it.
I am torn and I want to mend you.
I am broken almost beyond repair,
yet I want to heal you,
I am bleeding to death
And I bandage you up.
I am devastated,
but I look for ways to keep you afloat.
I am beyond repair.
You know this is true.
Still you accept all of my gestures.
My last breath will be I love you
and you will merely say I know.
The children waver. Joys away are sent.
The women widowed, men are killed in wars.
The smell of blood becomes the ordered scent,
and fear, unlike my dreams, so high now soars.
In East or West, in North or South, alike,
In neither Muslim world, nor Christian, counts
Inhuman traits have rapid growth to strike,
allotting strength so evil power mounts .
tundra vein
finds the steady rain
davenport alleys
I asked you once
where belonging gathered
in you
and you asked me
about the whirlpool
jettison the swift ideals
jumping like branchs
in North Hurricane winds
losing themselves
across boreal tracts
washing themselves
in the woods of a haunting
you exhale a chilled
angel in your hoodie
and above the poplars
afire with sharp bitter
dawn
the obscure passage of
jets are written
My heart is aching now,
I was too late,
I have lost you,
And I do not know if I will ever tell you,
But it hurts a lot,
And know I’m writing this fucking poem,
I can’t believe I lost you to someone like that,
Now I have to wear a mask,
What about every conversation we had?
I’m a little lost now,
A split road at every turn,
And I can’t even look back,
You made a decision on a bus ride,
I made a decision the day we met,
I’ve got a bad heartache,
I’m not even being cliché,
EXPRESSIONS
If I could do the tango
The tango I would do
Just with you.
If I could sing
I would sing a song
To make you smile
When things go wrong
And when it is time to go
I want you to know
Wherever I am
I am with you
Let’s dance.
I would have commented
but as I have just returned
from a cremation
my eyes are still wet.
The man was blessed
But now his woman is dead…
But grief can't be over come
in a day or two,
life will take its toll
so will time too
then after a week or so
the sun will return hopefully
with forebodings anew
to restore the wisdom
of the two who lived
as they were together
more than seldom
she clears her throat
and your ears prick
to hear what sighed words
she may yet weep
from sour mouth and
flaming eyes
she is alive
in every word you utter
dead in every hope
you dare hold
look to her not
for comforts sake
but rather
for that pain
you so endlessly crave
Detritus by RW
rippled feather bracelet
around a skeletal wrist
a hope missed
the gist
pissed
details going under
resound for another fist
a cultist
the list
missed
fighting five-front wartime
concerned for lecherous twist
to the midst
resist
blissed
calling father god-thing
reserved in entitled tryst
but never kissed
royal cyst
grist
never ending notice
to this claxon please persist
do not enlist
say what you
mean
Vacancy approaches swiftly,
meanwhile, lightless beings call for me.
Whatever the reason,
I am supposed to be here.
What I am is complete
because of you.
Stories echo the previous,
Mentioning the sense we share.
Becoming complete,
is the only option.
Eternity seems so far away,
but none of what I say
will impact us.
Streets flow like veins,
each leading somewhere new.
Wherever this heart lies,
it is perished.
I shuffle through the autumn world
with uneven gait on ruined knee,
acorns falling, nearly hurled
by acrobatic squirrels at me.
Almost as if I welcome pain
returning here to hunt each fall
yet suffering is worth the gain
although the margin's growing small.
You see, I say that I come here
each year when cool winds stain the leaves
to hunt elusive whitetail deer.
But my prey is really memories.
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