my blue eyes
when deeply angered
(too often)

your blue eyes
when I’m dangerously close
to angering you
(too often)

my thin lips
when insulted beyond
my humor

your thin lips
when anyone is insulted

we are so different
and
yet, so similar

I am flesh
you are spirit
ensouled in flesh

my adamantine
is selfish
yours,
un

my path now
to follow
to learn the lesson
of adamantine being,
selflessly


c. 2023 Roberta Compton Rainwater

All I want was a shelter to feel comfortable with.
A warmth that you felt safe.
Trust for mutual understanding.
  And the pleasure you fully pledge to.  
  
    Seems like loving someone at this age makes us feel unsafe and unsecured, and mostly – at times, temporary.

I lay here in my own arms
Cradled by an absence
Petrified in obsidian

If  I could paint your sunrise
in the colours that you choose
trust me , I would
except I know
you haven’t paid quite enough
attention
to blue, yet.

today is the day of death
all death happening-
in the Universe-

We, not removed at all
- share in all death's
just as we share in all life.

The spiritual discourse was over, my soul felt so strong,
thought my mind was clear, but I was surely wrong,
But as I left the hall, rain poured with no remorse,
I cursed at life, as I walked back into the hall distraught,
I realised that my mind is a slave to the elements, not higher powers.

heavy rain from a darkening sky
and buildings  fall

no one knows what will be left
running down the nowhere
where dreams die
on a metal tray
at the hospital morgue

trouser leg pushed up
the search for black ink
and a child's name
begins

perhaps the arm
the hip

the back?

and the children plead,
lie to me,
tell me,
i won't die,
today

and the silent screams
are left in an eternity of why?

foul and bitter hearts
will prevail
on both sides,
this is the poetry of death

Eve C6SS6NDR6

Can I take my playlist with me when I die please?

I Live like there’s no tomorrow
Be who I want to be
And be happy about it

That’s what I try to tell myself

My latest name is Eve C6SS6NDR6
Eve is more relaxed than Shadow, the previous.

She can stay up late.
And listen to her playlist forever.

But there’s an energy of love so pure that she can only feel in dreams.
Sleeping peacefully.

It’s hard to get there.
But she remembers it well.

The songs of the playlist are still playing.
When she wakes up she hears them in her head.

Up like there’s no tomorrow.
Wanting to die but not now.
And be happy about it.

Can I take my playlist with me when I die please?

The peach tree died today,
dried from inside,
there is no butterflies, no bees, no birds that feast.
lie to me & tell me its okay.
Invent a story or two,
tell me the tap broke, tell me you fell asleep.
Just don't speak the unspoken truth, that you were busy with them.
As I was away dreaming of our future white picket fence. . .