Music of Scars

Poesy plus Polemics

your voice is like whiskey
poured through gravel
and hardship
it teaches us something
that song without stones
of an age can’t deliver

your music of scars
moves on chords
built from pain
long suffering sounds
we’d give our last heartbeat
to sing even once

your implausible poise
plays a plaintive arpeggio
climbing the sequence
of notes that express
the best senses of
wounded humanity

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Great Leap Forward

Poesy plus Polemics

"Writers Block" Drawing by Clif Haley From clifhaley.wordpress.com “Writers Block”
Drawing by Clif Haley
From clifhaley.wordpress.com

fifty millennia ago
something somewhere
back there in the mists
somehow gave
homo sapien brain
a good knock
and its wiring got
jostled and crossed
revving up its innate
creativity quite with
astonishing speed

perhaps then
the poet
who suffers
the dread
writer’s block
merely needs
bang his head
on a good
sturdy wall

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Teardrop

Poesy plus Polemics

so much beauty
reflects in a teardrop
wordless emotion
made visible tangible
lacrimal vestige of
sadness that surfaced
aglimmer with gold
flecks of pain in the
shimmer of heartlight

reflections of
long ago gardens
bursting with color
under radiant skies
become withered
and trampled by
cruel boots of time

of love in its flourish
of innocence given
in tendermost trust
through swift years
become ravaged by
soul-searing losses
again and again

a whole lifetime of
happiness hardship
and heartbreak
appears in fleet
flashes before that
one teardrop slips
down along wrinkled
deep channels to
find its own fate

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Mirror Mirror

Mirror Mirror

PROSPERMIND

Mirror mirror on the wall,
aren’t you tired of seeing it all?

The good, the bad,
the pretty, the sad.
the ugly, the mad,
the lies, the truth –
all well hidden inside of you.

The small, the tall,
the rise, the fall,
the brave, the bold,
the young, the old –
their countless stories left untold.

The bright, the dumb,
the wounded, the numb,
the wasted, the scum,
the thick, the thin –
and all of us who lived in sin.

Mirror mirror on the wall,
you surely have seen it all,
please, tell me mirror what to do,
all solutions are in you.

Mirror mirror now I see,
the answers I am looking for,
they all unite inside of me.

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The Dream.

The Dream.

PROSPERMIND

It was a dream,
that I was dreaming,
I dreamed of you,
like I’ve never dreamed before.

And in this dream,
that I was dreaming,
we flew to the moon,
where we lived before.

In this dream,
that I was dreaming,
I took your hand,
and kissed it once more.

Oh, in this dream,
that I was dreaming,
you were like the stars,
so beautiful so pure.

But then I woke,
so no more dreaming,
of moonlight dancing,
of a love lost,
so long ago.

I look to the moon,
and wish I’d still,
be dreaming,
of this love,
which sadly,
exists no more.

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We burn.

We burn.

PROSPERMIND

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More,
is far too less,
for us.

Hungry hearts,
can’t ever seem,
to get enough.

We let our,
desires burn,
black holes,
into our chests.

We seek pleasure,
at every turn,
hollow shells,
of consumed requests.

We can’t see,
the trail of flames,
we leave behind,
clouds of ash,
blind our eyes.

We only want,
someone to tame,
to hold our hand,
and rescue us,
from the destructive,
grip of fame.

But until we find,
something to fill,
the void inside,
someone who feeds,
our flame at night,
we keep on burning,
through this life.

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