Understood-Accepted

XOXO Child Letters: V1 Radio News: "Is there something special about social media that brings out the worst in people?..." -- SM: [Silence], , , -- SM: "I don't think so..."                      -- Not a Public Radio, 08/31/2018 @ Nation 2018 @ Public 2018 @ Radio, , , Dearest Diary -- (oh, my digital diary), , , swipe, , , i *laughed* at viral YouTube vid: (6,000,000 hits, so good) a funnylike video of a double, #DoubleTap of some desert city slums-house. The first drone was not funny, but the second, , , after all the #FunnyLookingPeople ran up to look at all the #rubbles. Theys ranning over rubble & the second, , , knocked them all #

whippoorwills unite in a fever i miss you my friend, your smile: a balm, an excite, a fever that rose in a flower; you shined, enshrined a baby- eye. i cry for you, my friend, your eye: is a whippoorwill -- a dusk bird, tired with a dew in its throat, dew of the night [not the morning]. i want you back, my friend, your laugh: i miss your laugh. it was a balm. a rose, a nut i have squirreled away all these years, these long, long and long years. i call you back, old friend, your heart: naked, your naked heart, it is naked against this sort of cold; i have a feather coat for you, my friend, please take it. you are cold. i see you, my f

Chapbook Series (WIP): Orisons & Eulogies for the Holocene 1. O Rapture of the Spoken Time: quotes of my time -- O now, time spent of my raptures: half-drunk times, I be dripped, as a sound water - green taut, blue sunk. We may talk now? O eyes be poor drunks; toasts of luck-lossy drugs with pocket clink-bares. I smell you. - Now. O sun: O so brightly sung; so, I had some most perfect day-notes: notes of nots, but chords of whys! O undone when’s – once wise with odors & spirits dour; a no-long, lonely young now - who chafes. Now, O not I - not ever I complain: to gripe in galls ungrateful, to seethe of penny roils. No. Now O I

milk i milk frantic moments from the delirious drool of time tripping on thousands of whispered tongues all aching and moaning to light the bitter juice and rob a cool smooth shot of the white diamond mist to crush the languid death trudging about your head like a mean drunk with blood under his fingers and a rusty knife always ready for the screaming skin and stillness as you fall asleep MaggotsX (c) 2000.10.10

Might be Dumb Maybes, might be anything -- And [Mores] may today to quiet. Todays, Tomorrow downswing --        [downs] Yuk & Yak to diet? Yesterday's yarn -- sad plaything. Mights, mayhap be some thing -- And [Merries] may to sorrow. Tomorrows, Today's dumb thing --        [dumbs] Glam & Glee to borrow? Yesterday's yarn -- sad no-thing. And [Merries] may to sorrow -- Yesterday's yarn -- sad plaything...        [dumbs] Glam & Glee to borrow... Maybes, might be anything -- Yesterday's yarn -- sad morrow. MaggotsX @ 10.03.2018

Forgive Me, My Friend 25-08-18 You’re a warrior of the Xena-ilk – No battle too big to conquer, No enemy too horrendous to bring down – And like in that final battle, You’ve been taking arrows left, right, center And everywhere in between… But no samurai without honour will take your head, Because you are my Sam with a survival plan. You’re the friend who held my sobbing form After I drew my ‘first blood’ in a fight. Comforting the broken angel Whose light brought darkness when tarnished, But was quickly re-illuminated by your care, By your concern and your kindness. As my tears dried on yo

Disintigrating is my backbone, My hearts home. My stomach's flinching as its layers are shattered. Fist impact, Protective covers spread apart and puzzle pieces come undone. Rising my vulnerability is as criminals share gratitude. Years later will the fist still haunt me, Years later will the words still sting. Exposed insecurities; exposed is myself. Call me a coward again; I'll destroy you.

Dusk, On the Moon--Waiting She was not here. Tonight at dusk the crickets are a riotous symphony, raving cacophony of sound and furious trilling of violin legs; notes, single sharp notes, a note that haunts my head inside O anger and angst and loss. My beloved, She was not here. Tonight, at dusk, under a quiet moon of bullfrogs half-submerged, with bellows of full-throated grumbling and gustful exhale. Those croaks notes, deep dark notes, a note that gouges my heart inside O sorrow and seith and suffer. My beloved, She was not here. Tonight, at dusk near moonlight waters on a stump of old burnt birch, with white ghosted flowers of Spr

Keep writing like that,  and you might just make me fall in Love.

For Anthony's Wine: Hope, Flowers Kenneth, I learned things For our children. Along their journey, To dream. For a son, In our memory, Watering of flowers With our tears: he heard, - Deep experience, see What we hear, with a simple ear, Sand and storm wind - sounds like words Waiting for return Our experience belongs to all of us. We all hear our homeland and its participation I love this word: 'Hearken' "Do you hear this word as well?" Vivian, This word is Animated, moving For animals For hope I did, I did.

XOXO Child Letters: T1 "I would be derelict in my duties if I did not try to improve the system that everybody acknowledges is broken. ... I AM NOT KING. I can't do these things just by myself."      -- #BarackHusseinObama, #44 @ #forty-five, years & #onwordsy -- @ old, #oldstories @ #kings (new & old) @ 45 days, #dazeincraze @ #story #Tales "A KING almost Cry; to be written, ah, begs to be wrote into the papers of stories; of Tales. Myself, I love kings. Kings, are great, so great... Great! Great fiction, Great facts: for stories... For Stories-- Stories. While I so wish, I do so wish it-- wishes were not so: so now-- the Ki

The Red Wheel -- A liquid moon that drips from leaf to leaf; red cradle of the night, the stifling heat of September: Cities rotted to brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen. Death shaves the dead stick of night; I’m filled with the fading memory of those flowers. On this the coffin: lies. The half-stripped trees: Comforted. Again I reply to the triple winds and singing softly to myself: From a poet, whom I love, 'Lo, I am helpless!' But who am I…? I tried to put a bird in a cage: white as can be, with a purple mole, [its secret]; blue eyes- the wings’ wax-- --Gold against blue. She’s always hungry but .

Bitte, lass mich nicht allein mit meinen Gedanken, Lass mich nicht im chaotischen Karussell herumschleudern, Lass mich nicht in meinem Schädel herumirren, Bitte, bitte! lass mich nicht Dinge analysieren und besessen werden, Wandern, wundern, nachdenken und betrachten, Ich will raus! Mir wird schlecht! Es ist zu ruhig… Immer ist es viel zu ruhig... Bitte, lass mich nicht allein mit meinem Verstand, Lass mich nicht andauernd versuchen, die erstickende Stille zu ertränken Wenn ich derjenige bin, der in den Flutwellen ertrinkt, Verlass mich nicht, während ich versuche an die Oberfläche zu schwimmen Während der S

You are a soldier A warrior A survivor              You are the victor           On this forsaken battlefield                      That coincidentally,                                     happens to be inside your own head You have been fighting for so long        Too long      And it's wrong...                                        But I tell you,                                                              the end should be near                                 And when it's here,                                                 it'll be ok to rest your head,