Oh my…
My love, I saw the moon, and she revealed the truth
Of me, and you, and dreams so true
The lust, the lie, the loss!

When first I saw your handsome face
The sparkle in your eye
I loved you then
I love you now
But truth, it never lies!

You promised me the sun and stars
The sea, the tide, the sky
You took my soul
My heart
My life
But, in the end, love died!

--------
wait a minute, nullify a doubt  shade
shine on
now from when shine on was thought to mean
ignor.
in the olden days, shine it on, meant, ignore whatever
was urging
eee merge merge merge as I was going
dive
dive
dive kplunkthunked heavy heart, heavyhead, heavy hand

heave, **
its off to work we go,
lift the spirits of this old man, put laughing children
in his ya'd, yah we say jah, we say no aitch
and we say glory all the same, next
is ever after now is full of life.

So give it y'best. That's what coach angels say.
So we can categorize angels, if we wish,

or if the spirit that comforts us, soothes our trepidity,
calms our fear of stupidity exposure,
or academe memeself infection,
we  may take Gebser's five stage program for a ride,
click eh eee ha  I
mean
cliché has the e automaticall em-pha-s-ized, hypenatewait

a minute once too often and you gin gain ing alt alte alter a
aaa alter native be
ing ding… gnoshit UFO?
No, Jesus, it is an act, a show, we put it on the internet
and some guy used it to start a religion,

and some body, some institortured tonsured reality,
has to die a bloodless death.

So, that is a brief as to where this course change has
put, yest out is the word for our state,
put out, however, earlier in
us, the we who hold certain truth self evidently
ex-static…
shhhh  life is too interesting to ignor at the moment
listen magic stage minds in my grand children
laughing in my hall
go quiet.
Then reappear, in the kitchen, far away.

Today is April 2nd
The love is there no more
Truth all that is left,
Was I the fool to love
Or you to believe it,
Was it a moment's bliss
Or an eternity of pain...

More puddle steps that everyday
Fall back again with water rain
More tiny drops of water blow
And concrete grasses wet the stone:
More morning hue that fills the trees
And vapid air that sets the breeze:
In spring, and yet with winters loud,
The shoddy days the world bestows:
Of quick sunshine in leaving days,
Sour grass set in mellow rays;
A cousin-friend to seasons like:
The April springs of Toronto life.

From clouds above,
High and massive
Things are falling
On vast green plains
And dry deserts shaded yellow and orange.
For some, the falling brings smells
Of cleansing and new life,
And fresh new mornings filled with opportunity,
But for others the falling brings only
The stench of destruction
Of environments and lives.

The rain immerses one in a state
Of taking the long cold streaks
For granted, as it’s just another inconvenience
To the already somber day.
Rainbows are dreams
Hidden behind closed eyes
Of those forgotten,
Whose existence consists of turbulence
And tremors.

Resting minds are forced awake
Elsewhere tired eyes stare out windows,
Anxiety filling them both,
As the thunder rolls in ever closer
Until it is at last upon them.
An all encompassing roar
That some believe to be directed by gods,
And some to be brought by man themselves.

As one looks out,
Gazing on the horizon,
The sun lighting the sky in an orange haze,
While the rain, gives off a haze of its own
When it strikes the ground,
Leaving a growing terror
On a face,
As the baleful sound
Steadily approaches,
From the rolling thunder.

April showers conjure memories for some
Of time spent in the comfort of a warm bed
While raindrops pour steadily outside the window
And of running through the grass
As a carefree child
Until a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder
Send them running excitedly to the safety of home
But it’s because of no small privilege
They are able to think this way
Showers are not the same only half a world away

Usually seconds are counted after the sound,
To tell the distance,
But the distance is closed
In an instant,
With the barrage of shells,
And the shock of thousands
As their mouths open wide
With no audible sound
From the crushing wave
Of the falling rain.
Run or hide,
Both choices
Are alike in the outcome,
Only apart by placement.

Across the world a child that’s different,
Only because of where they were born,
Is hiding under covers,
In a country that’s been torn;
The thunder doesn’t scare them
Simply because it’s loud,
But because it’s not lightning that causes the sound
And it came from a drone, not a cloud
While one splashes in puddles happily
Without a care in the world
The other lives with seeing many they know
In pools of their own blood

Rain, oh rain, go away