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Of everything bent by wind on the earth
You move the fibers preserving my worth
Where have I gone with the questions I pose
And can I allow them to channel my prose
Subtleties hiding are harder to see
But that doesn't mean they are not within me
Show me the image beyond all of this
Far from the shadows that blew me a kiss
Cover my hands with the warmth of your touch
I need to feel it, I need you so much
Soften the edges afflicting my mind
Speak me a way I can verily find
I want to rest at the foot of your door
'Neath all the doubt I don't have anymore
Waiting is nothing, let patience attest
The time it has taken makes life my request
Послание к Филиппийцам 4:12
 Nov 2013 Ian Cairns
Sand
Scoffing you wrote up
The fortune teller to be
82 percent ******* and
18 percent insane.

But clairvoyants exist -
They’re people who
Realize the future
By looking to the past.

Fortune tells time and time again
That the answers we seek
Have already been taught.
 Nov 2013 Ian Cairns
Emma N Boyer
A look in the mirror
A fist to the glass
A smile that’s twisted
With sane thoughts ungrasped

Unanswered questions
Die on parched lips
From a mirror now shattered
Dark crimson drips

A glance at the window
Three stories up
The blood on the mirror
Isn’t enough

Three steps—one too many
Night air slipping by
The pavement where sane thoughts
Come always to die
He
He- was alone
Oh so alone

He - wandered life’s paths aimlessly
He - was just another face on a busy Baltimore street
She - floated in on a summer breeze
She – lifted him from the gutter
And calmed his stormy seas
She - stole his heart
And locked it away and
He – didn’t seem to mind
She – gave him reason to write
And reason to fight
He – held her close in the fading light
He – promised he’d never leave.

He – returned home,
To learn, to grow,
He - felt absence as a knife between ribs
He - cursed the gods
The buddahs and the allahs
He – just wanted something to go right.
She – told him that everything would be alright
He – didn’t know if he’d last the night.
He – felt his mind toss to and fro
He – simply had to let her go.

He – thought it was for the best and when
He – realized his mistake
She – was already gone.

He – is alone
Oh so alone.
I read this poem aloud, you can listen to that here: https://soundcloud.com/blaxstronaut/he-spoken-word-poem
You can burn the leaves down to ashes
Snap the branches and chop apart the wood
But until the root is extracted
It will all come back to flourish in due time

(C) Tiffanie Doro
 Nov 2013 Ian Cairns
Àŧùl
My eyesight is weak without eyeglasses...
It further deteriorated after an accident..
The accident failed to affect a part of me.

The part of mine is something awesome.
In the brain it is placed as an intangible..
My vision is the thing which improved...
Vision and eyesight are much different.

My HP Poem #483
©Atul Kaushal
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