Lot I lost,
Regrets left me!
Once I should bounce!
Tough yet again to pick.
But my motives lie straight ,
Forward I lean!

Dearest Patty m.,

we admire, admit to raw nailed jealousy
when we read the works superior
with the greatest worn scruffy complementary compliment
a poet
can give to
another scribe

How I wish I had written that,
those very words!

confessing before the world
with our own humility
at the daily dawning of
realization that
morning brings freshness and
insights needy for release and
aborning and the trace of humiliation
that we’ve all  ready
been breached bested
by others,
once again…

BUT
we do not bow!
no courtly arm sweeping,
back bent, at best
a nod of a head
then

privately
we gasp, rent our clothes,
throw the body flat to the floor,

observing seven days of mourning
reserved
for when we morning moan,
daylight groan and loan out our
croissant moon mooing cries to
bemused muses
in the clouds supervising,
as tears of, an admixture of,
an elixir of joy, compassion
and thus refreshed by someone’s
new infant’d christening
we *****. we resurrect, gamble,
throwing ourselves complete like dice,
in to a roll of
stunned stupor of high inspiration
and then make out best work
ever yet

but never do we bow, scrape,
bend the knee, maybe the head,
we mourn our lesser failings
and smile as we flash words
from our eyes,
stored in our mindsets,
our, my best, will
always be yielded up
next
——
addendum
———
seven years ago
in a separate guise,
he ssid it differently
maybe better?
:<•>

epilogue

read my face
incapable of,
deprivation
but how now silent
bow my head to Will
for teaching the way of words
traced upon
a fool or a king's tongue,
two too human,
so that poet may ken
his senses keener,
all for the better,
for the betterment of all

Now, as if he was driving a wind, cloudy clouds jump over and down with a brief grasshopper. It is as if he were a prisoner of time, which he had never let go, but many times he is in prison if he doesn't pay attention enough, or his ever-acting attention is wandering away.

All prisoners of the age of the modern mass man are to avoid this temporary fact -at least for the time They like it.

Gigantic lottery game that -involuntarily -is now involved, and although he has long been aware that he should have left the cheap chase of small -children's dreams, but no one is so cheap that he even tells himself - Although nothing is excluded nowadays.

The eternal one of the Nesse was always followed by a shadow; With a broken cheap momentum, he finished another telling card circle because he was eagerly chasing the momentary reputation, buying happiness, ownable economy, even though he knew it was no use, because it was just a silent voice without a sheet of emptying!

This is how it slowly becomes the practical action of persecuted minds of everyday cheap-elementary commercial days.