Seesaw’s and Mechanical Pony’s

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What happens when we cannot levitate any longer.

For when that disability begins,

it is our past playing hide and seek.

What happens when our memories of seesaw’s and mechanical pony’s come crashing down,

in an around our bare, to all, feet.

Only to be relinquished by a present we will not believe.

≤≥

How soon to the realization that we are all approaching something…

If not,

we are leaving it behind.

You don't fool the animals. Everyone knows, humans can't levitate.
You don’t fool the animals. Everyone knows, humans can’t levitate.

Definition of Levity:

High in spirit.  Lightness of soul

 

The Pains of Neutral

There are eccentricities about time that many… will never get.

Similar to chasing the family pet.

imageedit_8_2028553240There is a mortal need to have it all around.

Thou, it is injured and too tightly wound.

 

It may surface that there are brisk critics regaled  for being too passionately black.

And, those willing to make the ‘devil’s pact.’

 

As followed, before, the ache arrived, minutes filled the air.

As original as, the snowflakes in which we place our grateful cares.

Mind over the matters of time.

The pain of neutral.

No joy from fast forward or rewind.

 

For myself, revelations, on a dusky December day,

That, I too, conceded,

from the comfort of living in the in between.

 

There had been a frozen dust to the air.

It covered my tracks…

Or, considerate me…

I found myself not lost…for I never looked back.imageedit_6_4922132711

Shadow’s Harm

Careless Shadows

Mother Nature has gone from global warming to a hot flash
Mother Nature has gone from global warming to a hot flash

Did you say…that

you didn’t know

Soon after the overdrawn winter…

Before the summer’s baneful glow.

Are we not the same

Did the news report a day without…

unneeded rain.

Have the skies gone aglow

Neon yellows and cosmic greens

Our shadow’s harm,

watch it go, watch it go, watch it go.

Whether or not in fanaticism

Possibly in a good-bye wave of discontent

Mother is on a ravenous tangent.

These hints

These clues to lunacy and

ignorant bliss…

Knee-jerk disasters blatantly missed.

Between the stars and the middle class

Present is past, yesterday is tomorrow

No matter, the gift is fading fast.

‘Not quite right’ heard someone say

Half a continent wasted away.

Tepid places burdened in snow

New species of unknown origin

Dabbling in the science of things we don’t know.

Silent Misdeeds

Silent Misdeeds

Silent Misdeeds

Silent MisdeedsSilent MIsdeeds

Which form of abuse is to your liking?

Why?

You say….

The choice never had been yours

to make anyway…

Though it had always been your voice at stake

Just another orgasm faked…

Choices, options, delusions of narcissistic grandeur…

Why not a familiar bent take on beat her down pleasure?

They all say twice more than what they hear

Guardians of hand-me-down fear.

Everyday serving up a family owned tactile recipes

Everyday reminders turned mystery thrillers.

Everyday the salts that eat the pillars.

Snow white it’s Blue

So snow white it's blue
So snow white it’s blue

Along the route of…

Old is new

Slate to tin roofs.

You can see dusky corn rows

and,

into the heart of tomorrow.

All the while,

snow white sorrow

Pretentious and antiquated and ancient and misspoken.

Glimpses of a past paid for in tokens.

Granite blue and red with sunset morale.

So snow white it's blue
So snow white it’s blue

Deserted fields with one lone buxom cow.

Gingerbread, maple and fire sift the air.

It would seem the newest of England does not care.

A postal box envisioned by primitive design.

Last stop…missing the sign.

Wildlife encounters and other oblique…traveling shows

Mountains upon mountains of nowhere to go.

Snow white would only be fit the beguiled few

“Poetry is what gets lost in translation.”  ― Robert Frost
“Poetry is what gets lost in translation.”
― Robert Frost

A narrow state of mind…nothing new.

Grandpa’s Deere up on wooden blocks.

Too many, too many’s, pawned at the shop.

Looks like Poe’s the raven.

Feels like Frost’s haven.

Fierce farmland, as far as, the vulture flies

Windchill’s torment a native daughter’s third eye.

Styrofoam sounds like dripping mountain dews.

Underneath, snow white so blue.

Piney sap.

So snow white it's blue
So snow white it’s blue

A Mother’s milk and Mother’s mishap.

Skin stretched out over a dimming fall

Stoned in granite over it all.

Scenic one leading to one more.

Agape, another English styled country store.

Clothes lines made up of crippled shaker chairs.

Bumper-ed Harley’s loosing their flare.

So snow white it's blue
So snow white it’s blue

It is a granite state of mind…

Earthen embryo by design…