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She's watching me
but she's never said a word
I know not her face
her touch
her aroma
I've only seen her eyes,
in the stars
for years
and I'll never know why,
her beauty claims the heavens
why,
her light cures the blind
and robs sight from the foolish
indeed,
I've stared too long
transfixed and fiendish, for just a taste
I would make love to her even if she has no body
I would kiss her splendor with my words
caress her aches with fragrant whispers
charm the bones of her imagination with tender glances
and consummate our bonding with admonitions of love.

I need no more than words
to know she loves me,
if she would but speak
yet she only stares...
Her smile is the constellations, I know
and her breath is the sigh of the sun
her arms are the rings of Saturn
and her ******* the moons of Jupiter
yet, I am but a man
I cannot make love to these things
so I pen this yearning,
bold
true...
Sitting under her, the Cosmos,
with passion, I enjoy the view.
This is one of those poems that I wasn't sure was coming.
It started out a little slow, searching, but I found the rhythm and I'm enjoying the re-reads.

I'm trying to avoid those gushing poem-notes so short and sweet this time.

Enjoy!

DEW
Often, these dreams pierce the veil,
between sadness and bliss.
Armies cross
bliss is defenseless
I wake up cold

My steps feel the weight of the stone floor
out to the window, my dreams take me…
Even awake, dreams command my vision.

The world is blind to me and I am blind to the world.
They do not bear my dreams and I do not know their torment.

If they knew my dreams,
they would carry me forward
hands on my hand
we move the bricks together
sight for sight
blindness for blindness
dreams for truth

The strange warmth of fellowship fades in loneliness,
as if it were antidote… or poison.
Still, the memories linger
sparking
yearning to blaze
but they cannot provide warmth
for they are dreams
and fires must feed on flesh.

The armies continue to pour
from somberness into bliss
the fires wink out softly
my eyes dull; my dreams fade.

And for once, I see what they all saw…

Darkness.
So, this poem ends on a dark note, like many of my poems, but it's the type of note that I'm not sure about.
Still, what I am sure of is, the message is about conformity and losing sight of ideals in place of stasis, or regression.
Things like, "I don't give a f**k."
Or, "I can't be bothered."
Even, "F**k you and the horse you rode in on."
These can be funny to consider, especially in a movie.
However, in real life, the tone is different:
it's why "motive" is so important to a police investigation.
If someone cheats on you, is it because you were an *******,
or was it because the person is an unabashed cheater who lied to you, every, day?
Boo-hoo, right?
That's what I wanted to touch on in this poem.

So, without further ado...
Enjoy!

DEW
In dying day
we trust dismay
Like scent of edible death,
it marks the forlorn path
that marks the traveler
that marks the soul
that feeds the beast.

I cry upon the balustrade
I climb the walls
assail the roof!
I cling to hope and tidings sweet...
but hope, she fades away

In misty day
haze thick with ire
like defiling spear
it pierces the shepherd
who ushers the flock
who bicker and bark
who worship the beast.

I thirst 'pon fetid ocean
amidst mustard fog
oar strokes batter the brine
frost clogs the air, my freedom, my heart
while the sun hides his face for shame of the world
every other face is a mask, and beneath it a mask
their truths are lies and their confessions are lies
so I brave the ocean, seeking her wholesome face
Her voice is the bedrock of countless miracles.
I peer into the cloud that hugs the sea
her face smiles in the obscurity
I reach out to touch her visage
but hope, she fades away.

For years I sought her company
I wished for odes to reveal
the residence of her testimony
Her word would defend, like steel!

Yet when I finally found her,
my grasp bound death's door
I realized I was the hope
that no one will know anymore.

As hope, I fade away.
I have tried my best to describe my life's struggle in this one poem.
As Mahatma Gandhi said, "Be the change you want to see in the world."

We can't complain about nothing changing when we're the ones unwilling to change.

Enjoy!

DEW
She gazed, transfixed with dread
The path stretched on in hunger for eternity
Although it had not turned its hunger upon her
Despite its silence, its passive existence
She heard the road like war drums
Its rage was flame and steel
She broke her gaze from the path
And consulted the shaman
The shaman, upon giving her earthen herbs, sent her to wander
In the forest, where no path exists, she lost herself
She heard a voice call out to her, “Resfeber…”
The joys of life escaped her in the musty heat of dappled light
The rains tore through the canopy, washing her fears away
She began to lust for vision, for purpose
The wandering filled her with a desire to know the unknown
For all around her swelled the inescapable, the densely profound
And she happened upon the path once more
Its narrow vein was like the canal from a womb
She stepped out upon it, tasting the freedom of escaping the shell
She flew off, out into the storm
Seeking the eye of truth
Braving the harsh road
For the narrow path leads only to heaven.
Hadn't really written a long poem since the end of July.
I'd spent July doing 30/30 for Tupelo Press.
Basically, I wrote 30 poems in thirty days.
It changed my life in really important ways, many of them subtle.
The confidence I gained has waned a little, but I'm trying to hold onto the lessons.

So, here it is, today's poem.

Enjoy!

DEW
Listen
The nuclear fallout of a lie
So powerful the dye
Snakes its way-into every life-it
Breaks the mold, impending strife-it
Takes the souls-of every washed-up child
The tsunami of the call of nature will divide
Human nature is but a pawn, do or die
I hate to see the hunger it provides make you cry
Toss out the rhyme
I want to see you sweat when you hear
This
Most people will once upon a time fear it
It’s the attention of a demon in your house
Preying on your unit, infecting you when you spoon it
Sleep
Is where it finds you, invading your dreams
I’ve tried to find meaning in the ugliest things
But something stares back and it has no face
You don’t know its watching because you believe in race
You believe in consumerism, except what’s consuming you
More than sticks and stones
More than ticks and thrones
I realize, you’re out of the box, so pack it up
You don’t realize, you rely on the fox, so back it up
The wolf can come in many forms and many norms
It’s inside the books you sell, the lies you tell
The things you yell, the ring of the bell, at close of life
So understand the meaning of youth is edge of knife.
Farewell to the beautiful things when we create
For the vanity of our souls consumes what’s on the plate.
Another rap-poem for you to see,
another story woven by the whispers of infamy.
Trembling with scorn and fear,
these are the words I hold dear.

Enjoy!

DEW
Loyalty and power,
I gotta take a shower,
My salary’s forgiveness
In history I cower.
Ahem.
The sharpest devils were created in wealth – in wealth
That money power getting bad fa ya health – fo yo health
I climb the lady of liberty
Holding the fire of infamy
**** girl, how tall ya. gotta. be?
How much a man gotta pay for a woman to be free?
If it costs him his life, the debt is paid
For just an hour a day, living death is the wage
I can’t even start about the water we wade
Constituting ignorance, no more to a slave.
I predict the government will feed on your hate
And product your anger to the tricks of the trade.
There’s more to the story,
I’m ****** and poorly,
Ganked and gory,
Just ignore me,
Cents and sore knees, forgetting my name is Jason? Lord, please!
They’re brainwashing with
trumping ******,
jumping ******,
crazy info?
Know what you’re in fo
When you
Turn on the telly, the venue, is
Just another place for kids, welcome,
We’ve got another ****** for your cerebellum,
Gosh!
You’re welcome!
Mosh! Jump up, jump up, and don’t frown, when
They murdered more babies in jars.
Again?
That is if your mother’s in a jam...
When?
I don’t know, half past midnight in the twilight zone,
Which means absolutely nothing when a dog is a bone
Under your house
When you mistake your cat for a mouse.
How many things do I have to get backwards
For you to realize I’m doing math with slick words
Calculating fascination, a concoction, a plantation
Of seeds so small they appear not to exist
Turn the page and out comes a fist
Rattling down the road is canned laughter
Wait up a minute I’m down in the rafters.
So much energy today this poem had to be done,
and though it's more like a rap, the web had to be spun.

Enjoy!

DEW
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