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A friend of mine recently broke up
with his girlfriend of many years.
She had a young son when they met.

He had become a loving father to the boy.
But the boy’s mother, as it turned out,
was never really in the relationship
for the long term; other reasons it seemed.

I visit him at his place of work
where people who collect things frequent.
Lately, we haven’t spoken of such affairs,
or the ephemera for sale there.

Exasperation

I wake each morning only to hear
A voice that causes me to fear

What have I done the day before
What had I spilled on the floor

My actions are monitored every minute
No matter the day, without limit

I have no rights nor own a thing
No matter what I ask to bring

Every single word I say
Is monitored throughout the day

Everything I do is wrong
But I try to remain strong

I have long feared the day of death
Now welcoming my final breath

A Letter to My Younger Self

Dear inner child,

Come out and see me.

There’s no hiding with me.

You’re in the tree,
Behind the door,
Under the bed,
In the closet,
And I see you.
I know you.

I see the pain
And the anger
And the fear.

I see the joy
The passion
You’ve been hiding for so long.

No one
Will nurture your gifts,
No one
Will see the desire,
No one
Will feel the passion.

It’s just you and me out here,
And that’s enough.

You are thriving
On your own.

Spiritual Technology

As the inner self sediments of the human will settle,
And flowing essences of our consciousness align,
The spiritual energy aura condenses into soul metals,
Into a suit of psychic armour traversing space and time.

The manifold of perception which manifests its reality,
Is the most advanced dynamic of our cognitive nature,
The subtle synchronicity of our inner thought duality,
Is when sparks of inspiration light fires of a self creator.

grim

cooled air meets
inflamed sinus,
breaks out in a spar.

a lone traffic light
beyond its prime
thinks of me somewhere.

inert acquaintances
sits untouched
in the dial list.

overcast morning
a devil storm in the Asiatic ocean
gathers solid right punch
some say it keeps us
permanently half-buried.

rainwater pierces vinyl,
leaking through gaps
in the submerged faux leather shoe.

THE LONELY ONES

Some are widows, some widowers
or stuck in marriages gone stale
others outlived all their friends
living in a world gone pale.

Most have faces etched by time
with hair of white or gone away.
They are there if one just looks
as they sit with little left to say.

Even when within a crowd
of people they purport to know
you'll notice that they don't say much
as they feel their isolation grow.

Once pawn a time...

About four plus weeks after
frazzling fiasco from friggin fraudsters
white knight still mourns swindled money
Lynne Costello Senior Civil Investigator
(assistant to Philadelphia attorney general)
unable to recoup forfeited funds.

While holed up in castle keep,
(albeit fetchodit fuming father
cursing out blimey scamming creep),
I replay nightmarish scenario
that disallows me to sleep
inconsolable tears yours truly doth weep.

No Fear

No more hiding in the darkness
No more saying 'I can't do this'
No more running from mistakes
Be the reason the ground shakes

No more tears in the dead of night
No more hiding, it's time to fight
Don't come up with a negative reason
No more fear, that was last season

No more whispers of not being enough
No more backing up if things get rough
You better strap in if you're in for this ride
Don't just live, it's time for you to be alive

Stillborn

no whimper, no breath
untethered soul, hushed and still
in my arms, silence

Advice To Our Politicians...

With his feet of melting clay
he steps back from the stream
He trembles with ice-cold fear
no longer living the dream

Scenes of chaos, he shivers
Nothing ever stays the same
His self-worth is now in doubt
mighty, he once was in name

Ohhh, do not fear my good sir
it's only a fluctuation
The world is ever changing
that will be your salvation

Soon, all will be forgotten
we give the devil his due
No matter what your offense
never trace it back to you

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