Posts
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tonight i miss my mom
tonight i miss my mother as if i am grieving her death. i see her body in the casket of our inherited rage, dressed in garnet remorse and untimely age. in a way i am grieving my own life, because my mother is the c -
In later May …
the cows feed on the grass in their northern wild fields,
and the farmer is off fighting a war that he doesn’t belong to.
the thick weeds have flourished in the pastures -
Mere
It is the worry of cleanliness—
perhaps the worry of purity—
that ruined my dear Mere.
What was once a blossom,
is now sickly type of cherry.
Then, I will ask her if she can smell
the becomings of our devotion -
Faith in Nature (Roaring Garden)
The flapper Lilies sway their cupped dresses
while the trumpeting Snapdragons
play their sweet jazz for the garden.
Sniff the magenta Echinacea's dewey scents
dripping sweat after dancing in the sun! -
A Murder and a Mouse
Three crows sit on a bare shiloh.
They debate on whether to catch
the meadow mouse or spare it’s life.
The three crows don’t think very long,
because they are wild animals:
it’s in their nature to kill mice. -
A Decade Later
Nana, are you up there chirping in the blue sky?
Swinging above the canopy pines
while watching me slowly age from afar?
Are there twice as many stars in heaven?
Do you spectate from a torn-up lawn chair or
slump in an oak rocker?
Loves
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I seek beauty, peace and happiness
Warming the skin,
Sun you sicken me
As with every loving branch of light you extend to me
Reminded am I of the warm love we once had
Together and close
Pure,
Naive? -
loneliness
savor companionship,
for if it gets lost in a foreign sea,
the world turns gray,
dark and bleak.savor companionship,
for if it gets frozen in time,
the world might catch on fire,
and the pain won’t subside. -
Waning Moon, Fleeing Soul
The moon is waning,
slipping away into the night,much like my mind.
As I run over boulders and logs and grass and hills and trees and rivers and —
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Mother to Child
From the day you were born I loved you unconditionally.
I loved you every second, of every minute, of every day.
When you were born, I was reborn alongside you.
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Because The Monster Writes Poetry
The Monster is massive
with fangs and with claws
all lacquered and sharpened
sticking out from its jaws
The Monster is ghoulish
with deep, sunken eyes
it speaks whispers of wicked
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My Dearest Maria
The house was empty without her. The kitchen was robbed of laughter. Our room had stolen comfort. Nothing was the same. She was my everything.