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#poem

There is no time
that I can recall
the feeling of
maternal security
or motherly love.

But I can still feel
that fierce tug
and elastic snapping
while her other hand
was slapping,
smacking me
straight in my
stunned face.

I can still feel
the tension of hair pulled,
but never ripped from
my skull,
or torn to the point
of a bloody scalp.

I can still see,
on certain days
that twisted face
of her hateful rage,
that vengeful snarl
with jaw and brow
contorted into
a blank eyed
monstrous scowl.

I can still feel
each righteous blow
as she repaid
all slights
from that day
to the wrong account.

Better yet
I can still feel
that magic thrill
on the day
I stopped her strike mid air
like a bad ass ninja,
in that instant
knowing
she could never again lay
her random fits of rage
upon me
unless I allowed
them to be.

-2019

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I know the things I know but I know not the things I do not. Are you confused? Well so am I.

Yet, that is how the world works. We are not meant to know what we do not know as it leaves as yearning for more.

Without the unknown, our desires for exploration would be non-existent. So maybe it isn’t all that bad that we’re left going around in circles, scrambling to find the ‘true meaning’ in life.

There is no such thing as ‘truth’, only what we know and what we do not know.

But like I’ve said, we know the things we know but we know not the things we do not.

221119

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You sway in the past

Linger like a beam

Of a somnolent sunshine

In its moments that swelled you up,

Try to wheedle and root yourself

Like a feathery cypress

On its ochre coloured paths,

Spread yourself like a flowering vine

All over the places and events

Captured with a fervent heart.

Cause even a single toe

Dangling unknowingly into

The external spaces

Of present ,

Seems to situate you fully

Beneath a cast of whitening skies

With the shape of silence

As your only companion.

Where a thousand different times

You’ve always struggled

To solemnly exist

In fact.

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We draw pictures in the sand

A canvas of sand, our gallery
And can still find beauty in the sea

Water erases all that is temporary
A slow, progressing pulse of gravity

Tidal patterns that she weaves
Provide soft, necessary reprieve

Shells, and sand dollars revealed
As the waves begin their retreat

[…]

We draw pictures in the sand
And can still find beauty in the sea

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after you left

i went insane and then sane again

felt nothing and then felt the pain

but time sugarcoats memories

till they become fantasies


now i miss someone,

someone you never were

trying to find you

always, everywhere

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Cheering to the sound of indignation
With heated faces and good intentions
Choosing sides like you choose a lane
On a road built on promises of hell

Who fired first, no I don’t care
I don’t even care who brought the guns
Just tell me who puts the price tag
Who gets to reap from clash and gush

You know what I mean, it’s not a question of names
But questions never made by anyone
And when it’s over and ready to start again
Consider who notes down whoever won

And what’s more: who is paying attention
Who gets up front trying to get a mention
Who wants to lead or be led by some
Award-winning lack of comprehension

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it’s a room full of people,

it’s a room without light but the walk ways are lit between their seats

so there is some light and there are baubles on strings, they just don’t show up

until they are moved,

they are moved by the bumping of heads against their inanimate forms Their forms are like fireflies

so there is some light and there are times where a force becries the people

and their heads are at once a formless flash, a bed of kelp

we are a moss on forest trees, arms brush of a hunter quietly rocking, huddling together in the palm of the sea

on the table, a weighted ball for balancing is sliding across the white of a screen Traveling that is what we’re doing

when we’re looking for something,

something on the hill there, my beautiful, flavorful morning portrait of your eyes

so there is some light there

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