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 Sep 2014 Kassel D
betterdays
"we are learning to ...
fish in the river of sorrow"*
Faith Sherien

this has been a year of
hard lessons.....
of trying,
again and again,
to perfect the the cast
to catch, cleanly,
the fish of loss.

to split it open,
and seize it's innards...
the stench, the messiness,
the ichor, the guts.

to scale the skin,
rough, cutting scales,
little tear shaped discs.

to eat of the flesh....
chewing, chewing, chewing
on the hope of afterlife.

and picking the bones clean
of delicate, delectable memories....

hard lessons,
too many this year,
yet all a part,
of a fishermans journey....
down, the river of sorrow.
 Sep 2014 Kassel D
Nena Twedell
Mount Recovery
Recovery is described as a mountain
And here I am on my path to the top
Holes in my shoes bumps and bruises on my body
Blood staining the clothes I’m wearing
Not from rough terrain but from the abuse and pain I have put myself through
Callouses and scars each finding new homes on my body
Leaving held breathes on my skin
This is my recovery-
Not just from the drugs and alcohol…and from myself
On the path to the top of mount recovery
The path that seems to be traveled more and more today
Each step is a struggle as I strain to keep my balance
On what seems to be a narrow path
But filled with pain and self-discovery
A sense of wonder as I struggle to keep my balance
Amazed at myself that I haven’t fell yet.
As I look ahead I wonder if I will ever make it to the top
I continue to stumble forward
Sometimes to loosing direction
Step by step I rise in elevation
Growing callouses
Healing wounds
I stop to look up and admire the beauty of the life around
As the horizon is filled with oranges, blues, pinks and purples
As the sun sets on another day in Mount recovery.
Dangerous roads
and starless nights
a/c out
and faulty lights
squeaky brakes
a seat that bites
you can take your truck and stuff it

endless circles
lonely bi ways
without a net
on the highway
it's time that i just
did it my way
you can take your truck and stuff it

you can take your truck and stuff it sideways
right there where the sun don't shine
you can take your truck and stuff it sideways
it's not your life that's on the line
you can take your truck and stuff it sideways
right there where the sun don't shine
you can take your truck and stuff it sideways
i'm on my way....and that's just fine

paperwork
time delaying
canvas straps
constantly fraying
you ***** to me
but i hear naying
you can take your truck and stuff it

life's short
i'm not waiting
takes too much
to keep berating
i'm getting *******
and we're not dating
you can take your truck and stuff it

you can take your truck and stuff it sideways
right there where the sun don't shine
you can take your truck and stuff it sideways
it's not your life that's on the line
you can take your truck and stuff it sideways
right there where the sun don't shine
you can take your truck and stuff it sideways
i'm on my way....and that's just fine
for Patrick Desmond
 Sep 2014 Kassel D
K Balachandran
The gun, gleaming in the darkness of subconscious
a phallus, stiff and red with frustration.
Then, this hallucination suddenly erupts
in the crowded netherworld, dark interiors:
a doubt, whether those thrusting *******
and pouty lips tempt onlookers to make up their minds?
Are there daggers hidden in those eyes, that confront?

Hold back the wanton gun and thought that stray;
be guarded when handling those, demons
breathe deeply, wait a minute, bring sanity back in position,
learn the essentials of gun control, if you want
undisturbed sleep in your bed, all nights
Love thyself, aware of the bindings of love, the light, smiles.
 Sep 2014 Kassel D
K Balachandran
"A poem written by a drunken poet
**** inebriated by beauty so rare
and thought his words would be
immortal but did lack coherence"
on seeing her for a while, he gathered
"This beauty sure has a raw appeal,
but needs someone, patient and deft
with  experience to polish and edit,
to bring out her true effulgence"

She was watching him keenly in silence
Are hearts capable of exchanging notes?
Her eyes shone as if she read his thoughts
"A rough stone, precious, am I,  found out
from a distant mine, no definite shape or
remarkable shine, no one tried ever to cut it
and chisel fine,  so that light 'll reflect from all faces
carets not clearly known, will you take it in your hands
and consider it as thine, lavish your love on it
and reveal the hidden beauty, that's ravishing
born out of sedimented carbon,soot laden on outer layer"
her eyes spoke to him in silence, and he smiled.
 Sep 2014 Kassel D
r
in the canyons
 Sep 2014 Kassel D
r
it's half-past our time
and i'm still listening-
a song about getting lost
in the canyons

-and the divide
seems much greater
than before-

if i don't look at you
maybe you won't see me

and i won't have to lie
here still
unmoved by you
and your kindness

i don't get lost there
anymore.

r ~ 9/8/14
\¥/\.  inspired by Neil Young's
   |       The Great Divide
/ \
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