I’m Going To Start Some Rumors

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I’m going to start some rumors
Tell them all the bad things I’ve done
See if they carry in the wind
Or get burned away by the sun
Can words affect us in reality
Or are they conjured up in dreams
Softly spoken so we will remember
Illuminated by heavenly moonbeams

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I Don’t Know What They Expected

I don’t know what they expected
That they’d wake up & I’d not be me
That I’d forget all truth & reality
That I’d give up trying to be free
They must not realize who I am
Their feeble minds will never comprehend
Once my ire is aroused
I am unwilling to surrender, break or bend

The Unsteady Horizon Rocking Me

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The unsteady horizon rocking me
I’m doing my best to remain upright
Another desert soul back to sea
Taking steps to catch my fall tonight
My eyes are exhausted & can’t open
Cautiously alert for what’s out there
Wished & prayed never return again
The ocean’s been a dangling nightmare

Max Headroom Is Stuck In A Box

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Max Headroom is stuck in a box
Reclusive creature of yesteryear
Been trapped there under lock
Trembling hands with rippled fear
Our former lives now tarnished
With time dropping of another grain
Too much polish, too much varnish
Our earnest vanity will be our pain
But to peel away those outer layers
Uncover something forgotten & small
Hidden deep, lest our betrayers
Might catch us before the squall

Tana French

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“I’ve always loved strong women, which is lucky for me because once you’re over about twenty-five there is no other kind. Women blow my mind. The stuff that routinely gets done to them would make most men curl up and die, but women turn to steel and keep on coming. Any man who claims he’s not into strong women is fooling himself mindless; he’s into strong women who know how to pout prettily and put on baby voices, and who will end up keeping his balls in her makeup bags.”

― Tana French, Faithful Place

Lovely Flowers/Well Intentioned

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Lovely flowers/well intentioned
Nothing to replace frigid remorse
A broken vase with contents spilled
Life mistook its proper course
Banging away at the languid keys
Trying to create some tranquility
Which one left in stagnate appeal
Can’t escape your own responsibility

I Once Went Looking For A Poet

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I once went looking for a poet

Greater than Bukowski’s dead ghost

Pouring out a splash of scotch

Dreams of the distant Western Coast

The classics left me feeling passé

Champing at the bit for a place to belong

Needing the real, raw, avante garde

I’ve finally realized, you’ve all been here all along!

I came to the realization recently that my favorite poets are among us here on WP. We may never get rich or famous from our words, but I adore this community we have built. Thank you all for sharing your words, thoughts & lives with me. I am a better person for it. 💚🍀😀✍🏻📓

 

*previously published on former blog