Tuesday Night Post # 2-7

Ummm you are so salty,

     But you are my friend.  What is a friend, but a neighbor of occurrences and mutual acknowledgment?  Acknowledge my shortcomings since what you see is what I give you not who I am or what I will fool others to be.  I give you words just like others give you questions.  I have only what I find scattered around my feet.  These are thoughts dropped by this clumsy scribe. 

-DBL

*     *     *     *     *

Throw salt in the fire
(Stories of the Two)

This scene you remember rite

Placed in an open field

Empty space to fill with grace

On the last trip to find a truth

he wandered

Draped in a blanket white

A stumble and a fall in a pool

One half wet the other grabbing up

What he saw

A figure above

No choice left

this hand prevented this crawl

She had no voice

A relationship made in resistance

When hands pull and there is no reference

What direction is the question

Twisted and tied this union had no space

But to collide

Violent force that creates

This in turn would suffocate

In her pride she hid her strife

Backed off hands a square to another

This one a brick brother

Mired in a history of misogyny

He wears a jacket of fashionable truth

A black hat adorns this gospel

Unaware she follows

In one judgment she keeps herself shielded

In another she steps where he wants her

Maybe he is not aware

Maybe she is

He will take what makes her a mother

Gladly she gives what is not hers

Thinking what she needs is something

others wish they could recede

Now the new is the fools that follow

This path it corrupts the Youth

In his eyes what is needed

A simple joke

A friendly coax

Solidarity for the salt of this earth

For which they are thirsty

In unison they milk each other’s arrogance

Half Awake I Remember, Half Asleep it Makes Sense

My bed lies beneath a window in my room

In my box

There is no light that filters in

It’s much to early

The only thing that wakes me slowly

is the water

It throws itself on my glass

My eyes slowly open between a thought

One of sleeping and one of remembering

This I try to forget

Memory that I am

still here

Without the love

Without the past

Without the things I use to know

My feet have felt no warmth

to quicken

In this thought I fall

Back down to being insensible

In there it makes sense

Your form

Your figures

Your timeless companionships

Wetness on the glass

Reflects only what will last

I see you there

Never more closer

than when I never knew

what I know

of everlasting

never

I awake

Time has passed

My regret is that

what I knew I left

What you brought

I can never take