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a man privately asks, can you help?
you say, sure-no-hesitation

let me think on it for a day or two, he says
yet you act even before he comes back,
too late, you say, when he returns,
too late, he repeats in puzzlement,
yup, my check is in the mail,
cause one senses the need is dire plus,
plus you well recall the immutable obligation when  
a vague commitment of “just ask” was inked in a long ago message,
a poem born from/in the days when you slept in the car on the street

this vague promissory,
a more enforceable judgement in your own court of law
than any state construct or the judgmental eyes of a silenced god

word, honor, do.

thus it begins, an unwritten contract inked,
an egregious interest rate of 0% proffered and agreed,
commences a plain white envelope trickle,
a check inside, by postal mail, slowly it came,
month by month, inch by inch, Niagara Falls ^

years go by, and then comes a day,
when the accompanying check and its gift wrapped note says,
Paid In Full!

and so much for the tedious minutiae...

like kindness, I do,
Thank You and Your Welcome
are high on my list of proofs of
daily human extensions existential,

Paid in Full,
now rests at the top of the list

let me be blunt, the thrill of being a party
to a deal with no handshake, just coated in the
honorable words waterproof sealant,
with a person I likely may never meet,
made me so better assured of whom many claim I am,  
a mathematical proof revered and kept mind inscribed,
it was an aspirational ****, an unforeseen monthly blunt,
the best feeling good smile,
a kick in the pants about what really matters

being paid twice over and me,
getting by far,
the humanity confirmation,
the better half of the deal

write too often of honor,
and yet, will instinctual do again,
again overpowering my rays of will,
for there is no deflection, only reflection

for the glorious riches gifted and received,
without compare
the return on my honorable investment the best ever


oh brotherhood, oh brotherhood,
I am paid in the currency coined from brotherhood...
^ from a Laurel and Hardy routine
yup, true story
"This above all: to thine ownself be true"
which denies the escape
of being false to any human.”
 Feb 2019 Mark Tilford
nivek
spiralling outwards
toward eternity

an Earth child
takes on the divine

caught up
in a heart made for love.
It was about this time when the clock struck nine, but it always was before,
and when you're stood at death's door is there anything more reassuring than the clock letting you know your time here's expiring?

I'm wiring the family so that they can be near me when both hands of the clock are at twelve.

Clues are that close,

near enough to kiss you
far enough away to miss you
but
the answer is hidden.

No schedule attached
no premium due,
the sunlight fails
and
the evening will catch you
unawares.
 Feb 2019 Mark Tilford
Arcassin B
By Arcassin Burnham

Speak your peace and draw your heart,
No more paper ,there's no start,
Minds collapse imbued with fire,
Everything's the same,
Light it up and smoke it well,
Fill your lungs with that green hell that
feels like heaven every single day, no game,
Spell it out , don't say it loud,
Prove nothing to you , don't make you proud,
But I don't care, will never ever expire,
The **** you say don't mean a thing,
It's blasphemy, the actual day you come for me,
You'll have to ****, my entire empire..

Don't bring,
Your bad,
Ener , gee here,
Don't bring,
Your bad,
Ener , gee here,
Don't bring,
Your bad,
Ener , gee here,
Don't bring,
Your bad,
Ener , gee here,
We're here , we're here,
We all, exist,
Gawd **** , gawd ****,
Can't han, dle this,
Don't bring,
Your bad,
Ener , gee here,
Don't bring,
Your bad,
Ener , gee here.
©abpoetry2019

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2019/02/literal-*******.html
 Feb 2019 Mark Tilford
Onoma
the heraldic bend of

a field of wheat, to the

revels of dusk.

the explosive thresh of

tinting golds...Elysium.
Choking on arrogance,
  occlusion unrhymed

The Reaper lies waiting,
  graveyard of Mimes

Choking on arrogance,
  last curse to remain

Spat into the wind
  —returning black rain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2019)
 Feb 2019 Mark Tilford
nivek
the mantra is your path
a way of love

it will transport you
all the way home.
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