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Under the streetlight where campus is deserted,
parking lots tucked in for the night,
he senses he’s been duped.
The tired, timid teardrop, the jaded lethargic
self-awareness under empty spotlight
addresses shadows in silence.
Curling climbing cigarette draught
beams like a whispering bush.
In spite of warm air, his nose
and fingers have numbed up again.
The precursor of resolve is pushed back so far
as avoids inexplicable defeat.
The cresting breath of a brother’s car is a timely rescue.
As curtains close on unnoticed stars,
he’s forwarded on wheels of newfound friends.
Tentative-clutch adulthood is a shifting chariot
for the tribe of invincible memes.
Young men in need of telling secrets
of innocence and fear
do not invite revealing things,
when things to hide become equally true.
He trembles with longing for passion
for fighting words, to
Broadcast that HE IS a failed State
that he seeks asylum to betray his own orders.
He has to be the only one now facing the grave.
He laughs with wild eyes
shaken like a spicy suspension
adding his savory slice
to the communal
Then he prays
with clicking mitral valve
not be as hazardous as it feels,
that faith which doesn’t turn back time
nor vanquish demons
imperceptibly cobble him again
like a house gnome
night after shame-denying night
as long as it takes,
and that money won’t be a problem.
Each of them will be alone on the dark side of campus
paralyzed like the deer in headlights
hoping soon to be caught up by tribesmen
and hidden away from the spotlight on their fates.
By Vicki V. Jones
The rays of happiness, like those of light, are colourless when unbroken. _Longfellow._
One of her
an old junk front seat
left for months
in the car port
holding a genuine
in the back
through rising water
a marching band parade
awesome inner silence
detours and hospital trips
facing the summer sun,
and in season
vegetables from the local
Would her babies
(There were times
when the same face
made her cry.)
work caught her up
like a runaway horse.
Her favorite topic
at first when
falling in love, but
a favorite pastime.
Step One of My Three-Step Self-Improvement Plan:
Make a list of 21 Random Important Goals.
This was taken Christmas morning. I’ve had him 16 months now. He was nine months when I acquired him from the shelter. He had been living on his on God knows how long–grew up on the streets. It took the shelter six weeks to fatten him up and treat his several afflictions. Even after I brought him home, it took a long while and more than one hospital stay before he finally stopped scavenging impulsively. But, can you see it in his eyes? He knows that I’m the crazy one.
I need to balance my mental, spiritual, physical and emotional selves. I’m trying to make a plan and stick to it.
San Francisco. These animals come to life for little ones. They are very powerful. Children do not understand imagination, but they intuitively understand its magic. I can remember feeling the hard shell for an instant, then bidding it disappear as my animal began to move.
Some of mankind’s first words tried to identify this. I had the tranquility and residence to greet this thing for a while. I think if I woke up inside the rays of the morning sun enough mornings, I might concede to worship. Standing barefoot, facing it, my spirit is worshiping. My consent isn’t necessary. This is in Alabama, by the way.
It isn’t hard for me to imagine not having a Christmas Holiday even though I was raised in the tradition, and carried it on through my children. Yet, I’m quite sure this tradition is part of me. I learned this when I found myself in need of a Christmas tree in the late spring. That was over a year ago. This is the tree’s present condition. It might need dusting. Happy Holidays everyone!