Random Thoughts Set Afloat.

(A.)-


We write with the edges of our souls


sharpened by emotional grinding day to day


and what flows is the innermost gleanings


of our deepest hopes and dreams..

(B.)-


I have seen the night walkers


in the alleyways of New York's canyons


and on the dusty back roads of Montana


and in the graveyards of


the military dead at 3:00 a.m.


I have been a night walker myself


and strolled the darkness


following a slice of sorrow thinly cut


like a sliver of moonlight.. .


There are always puddles


where there are night walkers..


puddles of blood...tears...sweat and rain.....


There are ghostly night walkers


who still stagger through


the tunnels of guerrillas in Vietnam though


the reason for their three mile stare is long gone.


There have been many nightwalkers in the oval office


sleepless from the weight of life and death choices made.


There are Night walkers all over the world


and they converge at some point


and become a shadow


that blots out the day...


this is the darkest hour before dawn...

(C.)-


When dreams leave


open wounds in ones soul


and the only thing to bind it


is the one who is bound for somewhere else..


then there is little one can do


but be alone and nurse


the slashes of solitude back to a


reasonable facsimile of what they once were...

(D.)-


In the cocoon of night's embrace


we spread our wings into limbs and float on


the dreamy cushions of thought...


that let us fly beyond all that


life could ever offer..and the


translucent and rainbow hues


of our wings in this never never place


are of such sheer beauty that we awaken


with tear dust collected in both of our eyes

(E.)-


God's ear is always attuned to the voice of a child....


and he cherishes them as highest amidst all of his creations...


he grants them a period similar to Adam and Eve's..


a few blissful years of pure innocence to play and frolic


in the big wonderful world without the burdens


of sin or guilt or responsibilities

(F.) -


The moon pulls souls together


just as it folds the waves one over the other.....


it has viewed the passion of thousands of years


in all the wilds below it....


it is always just outside the window


with a fingernail smile or a bright beaming ray


that illuminates two sets of lips entwined


times ten billion all over the planet.


The moon is a voyeur who helps stir the scenes


like a director who orchestrates the moods


and the settings and we are but actors


under his tides of impulse.


We have walked on his dusty face


but he has gleamed in the eyes of countless


coming together by two's for centuries


and he is the love light...the night light


that illuminates passions trysts

(G.)-


Sadness....is an ivy clinging


to the walls of ones soul


blotting out the light that


normally glows warmly through


the membranes of ones inner self...


it is a poison ivy that irritates and disturbs....


and lingers long after contact with the offense


that caused it is gone.....


salt can kill the root of the sadness..


the ivy..though poison... cannot tolerate salt..


and withers..so let the salty tears flow freely


over the ivy walls of your souls


and wither the root and then let


the light and warmth of one's smiles


enter in and set you in a clear place


...free of entanglement..


(H.)-

And so the thoughts dry like ink on a page,


or the vapor trails of an inkjet across virtual space.


Just some random thoughts left here for posterity


rendered while I sat on my posterior and pursued


the try that one finds in Poe-try.



(I.) am done for now....

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