of all the candy bars
I’ve ever eaten.
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SANDBOX MINUS JOHN
Often I return to the cover of Trout Fishing in America. Itook the baby and went down there this morning. They werewatering the cover with big revolving sprinklers. I saw somebread lying on the grass. It had been put there to feed thepigeons.The old Italians are always doing things like that. Thebread had been turned…
Three crates of Private Eye Lettuce,
with magnifying glass on the sidesof the crates of lettuce,form a great cross in man’s imaginationand his desire to namethe objects of this world.I think I’ll call this place Golgothaand have some salad for dinner.
With the rain falling
I ate a dish of ice creamthat looked like Kafka’s hat.
I sit here, an arch-villain of romance,
I made you unhappy, but there was nothingI could do about it because I have to be free.Perhaps everything would have been differentif you had stayed at the table or asked meto go out with you to look at the moon,instead of getting up and leaving me alone withher.
WORSEWICK
boards across the creek. That was it.The boards dammed up the creek enough to form a hugebathtub there, and the creek flowed over the top of the boards,invited like a postcard to the ocean a thousand miles away.As I said Worsewick was nothing fancy, not like theplaces where the swells go. There were no buildings…
A trout-colored wind blows
and I remember how the troutused to hide from the dinosaurswhen they came to drink at the river.The trout hid in subways, castles,and automobiles. They waited patiently for the dinosaurs to go away.
The very roots of Life,
It would be like feeling
Of Eternity, the Light.
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I close my eyes,
Open my hands,Despair,I move my lips,A kiss,I dream a dream,Of bliss,I feel your presence,In my blood,Love rushing thru me,Like a flood,My heart no longer,In its place,I feel your touch,Your warm embrace.Who are you?Tell me, I must know,‘I’m just the wind,Please, let me go’
When you were gone,
The Moon just couldn’t shine,The Sea no longer spoke to me,The Wind cried all the time.When you were gone,The DaffodilsNo longer yellow, smiled,And I no longer had the will,To know how much I cried.Now that you’re gone,The Willow Trees,Moved by the breeze,Begin their mournful song,Their long Green Strands,Embrasse my hands,We softly weep along…
The things they do,
Will make you happyLove goes so far,Beloved, dogs, and cats and petsBetter than all Casino bets.
Mystery in Blue so true,
For, for me you’re the Blue sea,Where all Life has come to be,So with our Blue Love, you seeYou have given Life to me.
I have never seen ‘Sincerity’,
Not one syllable of Verity,Lies, destructive as true whips.
Poetry has,
That nothing else has,It’s the music from the Poet’s soul,That gets to sing, is heard, he hopesIn verses that will ever last..
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Created Characters,
That would, the world, amaze.
And now,
It is too late!
I’m just a tired wreck,
That not even,
The beauty of Love’s Red Rose,
Could easily resurrect…..
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Today,
The burning embers,Of my past, of my life,Remembering is very painful,Because emptiness ensues,And loneliness brews,Open wounds that stay aliveFor the rest of your life.
To see and live,
A government so rotten,And so mean.If this is political evolution,Then the past was really revolution.That they should represent US,Is much worse than just disillusion.
Poetry is,
You can’t shake it,Falsify it,Or fake it.Like Autumn Leaves,Poems may fall,But it takes the heart,To authenticate them,All.
Love,
Slowly,Like rootsThat then take hold,Projecting themselves,Everywhere.Making themselvesIndispensableFor my Life to continueAnywhere,Without you.You grew in me,Slowly,Like warmth,When it’s cold,Opening Light for my heart,That no longer knew,How to hold happiness,So far away it had been taken,While, my life was breakingAnd falling apart.You gave me back,My smile,Just by holding my hand,Looking into my eyes,Silently saying with your look:‘I…
What touches the heart,
Love is irrational,Can’t be defined.
I hate disrespect
No matter who it comes fromOr their stature,And those that insult our CountryOr for that matterAny country where they live,By denigrating the FlagOr taking knees like squattersDon’t deserve to be hereBut should go far awayFind a lowly place,As low as they’re, cowardice!Where their Venom they can splatter.
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So pure, so blue, so high,
You and I
Paradise,
In a sigh.
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Poetry,
When I read youWhen I write you,Feel your uncontrollable tideSuch emotion and devotionGathers deep and way inside,Transfiguration happens,Velvet voyage,To a more spiritual state,No longer do I feel deprivedOf all the love and emotion,That no one ever really satisfied,My sea of loneliness, demystified,I travel, longingly, to your side,My deepest Love,Life of my life.
Pain and injustice, demoralize,
Dictatorship and power, paralyzes,Whatever good, we should become.
How do you get ‘fifty vitamins’,
I can’t help but think,That as most everything,It’s a Fake!
The best are those,
All at once,Are written,No hesitation,Just inspiration,Does not often happenBut when it does,‘What a Feeling! ‘Secret, MysticalDevine Sensation,Pure Creation!
What is a poem
A hopeless shadowWithout a friendWith whom to shareSome happiness,Sometimes, a sorrowWhich in the end,Is simplyLife’s truest blend.
Put your own pain to work,
Show that being human’s not just words,Be compassionate to your sisters and brothers,In their time of need and saddest hours.