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Life in a moment while sitting in my car / For my daughter

It’s  ten thirty-three

and I’m sitting in the seat

of my nice red car

not drinking, not the bar.

 

I wish it was easier

than keeping it calmer,

the more advice I get – I give

The more I search for the will to live.

 

Grasping at straws trying to help

Sometimes I’m just angry and I yell.

Taking it easier and living it slow

changes my face as I move forward, grow old.

 

It’s not my age that makes a difference

It’s not the pain, it’s the helplessness.

I’ve got to give all I got to you,

to your sister and brother and your daddy too.

 

Flipping it, shaking it, sleeping it off.

I wish I could drink till my head spins off.

But, I am just spiraling now, out of control,

so I need to stay occupied, keeping my whole.

 

Don’t fret, don’t threat,

Don’t live and let die.

Be happy, not cross,

Don’t live and hide.

 

This life is a blessing

and you’ve got so much to give.

Learn to create and

to spread love and live.

my girl

going somewhere?

This train's destination is Cleveland Circle

photograph: (C) AB Troen ~ Last 380 Hours

wooosh she’s near

one step back

click and snap

smiling scraps.

fingers letting go of

closing doors that show no

cares for long goodbyes or bags

forgotten on the borderlines.

windows smudged with hearts and fears

reflecting past too close, too dear.

then coming from the car nearby

is strumming – no more tears, no cry,

which summons like that piper once

to follow waves of joy, of pleasure,

reaching in, relieving deadweight

freeing empty spaces aching.

inhaling, exhaling…

aimlessly aiming.

craving creating.

stuck in chains chaining,

naval chord threatening.

screech screens screams.

swallow – choke.

slow release

here it goes…

open doors.

down

the steps.

felicity?


~ claudia schoenfeld host of Poetics tonight at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, offering song and drinks to lift up spirits and challenges to about trains… this is my entry.

cut-off

***after receiving thoughtful and helpful feedback:
 
careless me.
 
these cycles
go on and on and 
do not pass Go
these gentle genes that bind us
tear me a-
part
my heart
hurting.
my ring
 
 
his-and-my genes
they matter most
future hopes, dreams 
desires.  Need some
 
 
clarity.
(careless me…)
 
 
***after receiving thoughtful and helpful feedback: at dVerse Poetry Pub Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft – Approach notes.  stressing the diverse and allowing for feel and improve are Claudia and Brian ~
שירת יוסף - ቅኔ ዮሴፍ

אתר שירים אישי / የስነ ግጥም ብሎግ /

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