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Bad it says
The gateway sad
Words to tow
The server slow

502, an error true
Leaves me blue
Lips are dry
smile wry
Week after week  
I put words to sleep
Today they haunt
My every thought

Bad it says
The gateway sad
Words to tow
The server slow

Hello Poetry says
You have a page
Home is where
The heart lies
Don’t you lie
When the page is stuck
Without any luck
Poetry dies

Bad it says
The gateway sad
Words to tow
The server slow
Yet another, error 502 inspired thoughts

Last one for the night :))
Grey covers the blue
A dark black blanket
Pinned on the sky
Thunderously shaking
Lacking an eye
Monstrous

Lightening danced, rapturous

Glaring at the green
Unleashing its wrath  
With a downpour
Ripping off the velveteen
Dousing the sunshine
Tenebrous
11/09/2021
Road journey brings the experience
Monsoons
Perception
of things.
What’s seen.
What’s heard.
Sense of
surrounding.
Brain/mind
interpretation.
What’s
perceived
as real.
What the
mind can
process.
Capabilities.
Limited
capabilities.
Brain power
limited.
Processing
power finite.
Sense
of reality
incomplete.
Cognition
based
on the
incomplete,
minuscule.
Missed.
More than
meets the
eye.
Unseen.
Unknown.
Surmising
with narrow
knowledge.
Looking
out.
Out
from the
terrarium.
Looking
out at the
infinite.
Perspective.
Pebble
in the
void.
All
that’s known
derived
on a
pebble.
Pebble
in the
limitless
void.
The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.
There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats o'er the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings un-hallowed and old.

There is death in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the dead in their shrouds
Hail the sin's turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance round a Yule- altar fungous and white.

To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the sick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
You once asked me if I could ever describe you in four words, what they would be.
I finally figured it out.
"control c, control v"
i know letters aren't words but ohhhhh weelllll (:
Continuation of Life is just a Metaphor*

The wolves sing
Such a lovely song;
Howling, howling,
Calling the pack home.

The lone wolf
Hears the angelic sound,
Despairing, for he is all alone.
He follows the sound,
Remembering his own pack;
So similar, yet so different.
The sounds of playful competition,
The smell of his own kind.

Right in front of him,
Yet so distant,
The pack sees, smells, hears him.
He knows he’s unwelcome;
He feels it.
But the lone wolf
Has been alone for too long.

The wolf pushes forward,
Daring another to challenge him.
The pack doesn’t attack
But the lone wolf’s presence
-Startling and sudden-
Is not acknowledged,
Making it known
The lone wolf is just that;
A solitary, deranged, unwanted wolf.

He stays.
The lone wolf joins the pack,
Unwelcome as he is.
He’s not permitted to join
The hunt, the feast, the camaraderie.
But he knows how to survive on his own.

His lone howl
Calls to the moon,
Calls to his lost family,
Calls to those he’ll never see again.
He’s joined a new pack
But they don’t see him as a pack mate;
“Not yet” he thinks,
“Not yet, but they will.”

The lone wolf goes to sleep
Each and every night,
Waiting, just waiting
For the next day
When the pack will accept him,
Count him as one of their own.
Wolf is a symbol of guardianship, ritual, loyalty and spirit. Having the ability to make quick emotional attachments, it trusts their own instincts. We too should do the same, trust our hearts & minds, and have control over our lives.
When St. Francis encountered the wolf of Gubbio in 1220, he did not fear its coated fury armor and when the creature devoured animals and humans and became a force to be reckoned with, St. Francis  made the sign of the cross and went out to meet the wolf , one on one.  The crowd followed him from behind but as St. Francis entered the wolf's lair they held back,  keeping a safe distance, they could watch and not be harmed. The wolf at first rushed at Francis with open jaws. Again Francis made the sign of the cross and commanded the wolf to cease his attacks in the name of God. The wolf trotted docilely and lay at his feet. Placing his head on Francis's hands he listened to Francis:
"Brother wolf, you have killed men at the image of God, so now  you are worthy of death but if you make peace with us, we will forgive your past offences and you shall live.  The wolf bowed its head and submitted to Francis, completely at his mercy.  The wolf placed one of his forepaws in Francis' outstretched hand and the oath was made once ferocious wolf now behaved like a household pet.  Like the wolf, we too have our net worth, as compassioned  beings, capable of change.  So tell me, after reading this, where do you stand on the empathy scale ?  Are you going to help the wolf change, or are you going to watch him fail.
The End.
(when we all stand around and watch, we all lose)
A majestic beast that runs on four legs
A wolf will stand tall when a good leader comes along.
A wolf is humble
But oh so very proud
The wolf will not stand to be kicked when he is down

A poet is a person who stands on two legs
With two arms to pick up things
We are just sheep without a second thought
when  a wolf comes running up and picks us off.
What happens to that sheep no one knows

A pack is a great place to be
Yet only when the wolves all get along
Some packs don't accept a lone wolf
Others are packs mostly made from rogues, yet
Everybody looks down on wolves
But they never tell them no

A tiger and lion have performed in a circus
But have you ever seen a wolf in the circus?
No you probably haven't
For they are too prideful for that

Poets are like a pack of wolves on a hunt
The hunt that takes them through the jungle of words
They try to catch the catch of the day
"A poem"
That's the catch.
When they get back a  lone wolf is standing with a limp tail
They surround the wolf with love and admiration.
The wolf grows to be strong and proud and surrounds itself with a pack

I was once the lone wolf with a limp tail
You guys were the pack that were so strong and prideful
I stood in the middle my legs all shaking
You guys shrouded me with love and turned me into a majestic beast
With skills still untouched.
My life was fixed.
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