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  Apr 2017 spartan73
r
Mud, whiskey, death
and bad debts, the river's
high water, mysterious birds
flying south disappearing
like a youngest daughter,
no good men, bad intentions,
changing seasons, unexplained
pains, all of these are reasons
I've seen good women weeping
after the hardest rains came.
  Apr 2017 spartan73
Mike Hauser
The old become the new
The secret to the truth
With nothing left to lose

I want to see...

The questions that I have
After all is said
All be answered back

I want to see...

The hands being raised
Not just on special days
When promises are made

I want to see...

A moral compass in accord
Pointing straight due North
For all that it is worth

I want to see...

The flipping of the coin
In the early dawn
When heads the coin lands on

I want to see...

The plans being made
As tracks are being laid
To the worlds peace train

I want to see...

The love that's held within
Every woman, child, and man
Across this great land

I want to see...

Desires of my youth
In everything I do
Ripen in its fruit

I want to see...

Positive the change
Forever and a day
Until the shadows fade

I want to see...

All that I can see
In all that's meant to be
In every single need

I want to see...

From beginning to the end
And when we reach that bend
I want to see it all again
spartan73 Apr 2017
My hand, his paw

Swing paws honey?
Sure honey, swing paws

p.s. He has big hands, like tiger paws.
I miss him all, I miss his paws.

#10Years #loveLost #soulmate
  Apr 2017 spartan73
Jeff Stier
Fortunately
you are not my muse

I've worn out muses
by the dozens
cast them aside
like chaff
and cherished the sorrow
that ensued

Sadness was my calling card
my tragic handshake
a testament to a life
gone wrong

Age improved me
I survived the madness
came back to life
gasping for air

And so to your door
to spin the wheel
of language
to glory in its intricacy

Two poets alive
in the same century
two restless souls
under one uneasy roof

We will survive our families yet
raise a toast
when the day comes
to the dear
and thankfully departed

We'll leave poetry
like confetti in our wake
and touch the holy stone
once or twice yet
in our lives

I pray it will be so.
A note to my wife, in case it's not obvious.
  Apr 2017 spartan73
Adrianne Toles
There was beauty in the way he hurt me.
So I found others love to be ugly.

The sweet, sinful daggers he used to degrade me
I wore like a suit of armor that protected me from the world.

Now I stand in the mirror looking at the suit made of thorns
Tattered and broken
To match the remains of my heart he forgot to take with him.
I close my eyes and open them again
Waiting for this nightmare to end.
To end.
To end.
Start over.

Now I stand in my bedroom.
I am naked.
Revealed.
Hidden only from the world outside these four walls.
I closed my eyes, but did not open them,
Rubbing my hands along the hills and dips in my skin
The mountain ridges of scars
And counted every rib that felt like bars
Sealing me within myself when I just wanted to escape!

There was pain in the way he loved me,
Leaving an unfeasible idea of me loving myself.

Cause every morning I wake up and I say
“You can do it!
You don’t have to conquer Everest in a day,
But you are strong enough to get half way there!
You can do it!
Just live!
Keep breathing even when oxygen becomes so heavy your lungs collapse under the pressure.”

But then I’m standing in the mirror.
Or I’m standing in my bedroom.
Naked and broken.
Tattered and ashamed.
Tears carve their ways down my face and each drop lightly pecking the upward pointing corners of my mouth.

I wonder if he can still feel my world shake.
Because if somewhere in the world a butterfly can do the only thing they know how
And create hurricanes,
Why can't the slight tremble of my lips as I force them into a smile to prove that “I’m okay.” —
Why can’t that cause mountains to shake
And walls to crumble?
Why is it that only I fall apart?

There was destruction in the way he left me.
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