echoes of Autumn…Tanka/Haiku

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echoes of Autumn…
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voices like leaves rustle and
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scatter to the wind,
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yet another poet’s pen
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has sadly been set aside.
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windy-leaves

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a wordless farewell…

like the brightest leaves they fall
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when their season calls.
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but just as the memories

of true love always lingers,
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creativity
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and their inspired poetry
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forever remain.
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dedicated to thesilentfingers, Tanumoy Biswas,
Memoirs of a Dragon, cubby and Tiffany Coffman. ty, all.

let the world….

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let the world do as it will…
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what pale light lingers of endless Winter days
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fades from these eyes averted,
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far away from this reluctant silhouette’s
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anonymous imprints in greying sidewalk slush.
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let the world do what it has…
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i measure my walk lightly here in frugal steps
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and speak less amidst the throng,
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not belonging where i don’t an eager
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trade of so many years in such meager wisdom.
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so let the world do what it must…
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that our words and value lie less in volume
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than in selfless devotion’s daily intent.
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this grateful heart returns Home

warm with aromas of pine scented candles and

food so lovingly prepared,
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the eclectic comfort of all we’ve collected
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of familiar voices and heartbeats
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and know there is no world i need but ours.
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DSCN0856

Friday Repost…..petals open slowly


Friday Repost

for my new friends,
a little dig in the
archives for you.
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petals open slowly

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across undulating fields of truthful wheat
across the window walled skyscraper cities
across churning surf and miles of embattled shore
and a mother’s loving comfort hearing her baby’s cry

know your nourishing and loyal day will arrive
an infinite Sky in her kindness and healing grace
offering all its patient memory and forgiveness
and a wisdom knowing that all petals open slowly

and renewal and its reinvention begin the day
because a child’s heart is a truth we can’t deny
my dearest friend the sun is warming at your window
and our new world awaiting to hear your hopeful reply
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Who is of smiling face
Bestower of all fortunes
Whose hands are ready to
Rescue anyone from fear

It is the child in us
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my morning music and a beautiful video::::enjoy::::

dear readers and writers…a co write

dear friends,

this is a co write between teardrops of ink and myself. we began this poem over a month ago, born from tentative blog converstaions of two internet strangers. we hope you enjoy it, as much as we did writing it.

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dear readers and writers
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blog-1
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(The Writer)
Frail lives
penned into strong, black lines
on display, hidden
in plain sight for all to see
The moment of truth
Afraid to try, afraid to reach out:
yet more afraid not to.

(a reader)
and it’s these moments…
in reading the poetry of real people,
of eyes that we will never speak to, the miles
we will never bridge, the shoulder,
our reassuring hand will never reach…
it’s these moments when pain,
her vulnerability so courageously
etched across the screen, a pain that
resonates so deep into my own heart, that
i wonder… what…if….should, i risk
saying what i really want to say…

(The Writer)
Some days, I don’t feel real.
Nothing does.
Except for these thin webs
connecting space, this
frail air full
of unspoken words
and spoken ones.
I am burdened to give,
to share
everything,
to hold nothing back
All of my heart, bleeding out for you
All of you. Those who I will never know
or see or touch.
Yet you know more of me than
those who can see and touch
me.

(a reader)
she has revealed
so much of herself in such
naked honesty stripped of metaphors
could it…is it enough that
i suffer for us in
my silent solidarity,
click ‘like’ and move on?
i ache for us… both
that her words would ever need to be written
that my wound could still bleed as fresh
but..
we’ve talked before…
in that day’s long conversation…
in her beautiful poem To Taste the Autumn
at least a tenuous connection
exists between us now…
will she recall it
fondly as i do?
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or is it just
what i need
to feel?…

(The Writer)
Interpretation
can work both ways. He
could say one thing and I
read another, same words, different
thoughts born from them. Gently phrasing,
almost afraid to tread
too heavy inside
the dark recesses of others minds
lest I leave too much of a footprint.
Yet how will we know if we
are the same inside unless we break
open the shell a little
and look?
Absent touch
Handshakes reaching
through binary code

And the silence stops pressing in
quite so much.

(a reader)
the pain in her poetry
has scratched and scrawled into my heart,
taken root in decomposed memories
it resides there, in
wounds buried decades deep
below this sudden resurrection
but tears as wet
if there is more to grieve
then who better to empathize?
i’ll bare this truth
as she has,
expose my softest underbelly
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empathy shouldn’t
feel like such a risk,
but there is
no turning away now
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friendship_over_the_internet_by_lemonwheels-d53x2im

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(the friend)
i am so profoundly happy for you!
ty so much for sharing that wonderful news!
i remember when Scout and i first realized we were in love…
nothing else existed….enjoy your time together.

and they say fairy tales
don’t come true….

hugs to you
my dear friend

(The Writer)
Pale and
warm
ethereal tendrils
snaking through the dark overheads
Soft as newborn stars
More tender than petals
The reassurance of a stranger’s words
reaching through the universe
to embrace a lonely soul
Enticing touch of a tentative friendship
born through blood
and fire
and words
pressed into my heart and
soothing
Shedding sweet tears
til no bitter remains..
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these old shoes……Haiku

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to read by
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these old shoes
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these old shoes of mine…

walked the twisting, painful path

that has marked this life.

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my innocence lost…

psyche and body so bruised,

i ran at fourteen.

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and these old shoes stood

steadfast and true…. with me in

my loneliest hours.

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i can’t let them die…

stitching them back together,

again… and… again.

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i don’t yearn for much…

these days….. my miracles are

the moments i’m in.

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my needs are simple,

f a m i l y…. is my fashion.
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‘shoes, just get me…..h o m e’

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images (35)
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for my sister Melanie,
ty for your courage.

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n o w

i

no

longer

yearn,

for the

next

big thing
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it’s

every

t i m e

we spend,

it’s

u s

here

n o w
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y o u

show me

l o v e,

deeper

than merely

skin on skin
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our

hearts

they beat

t o g e t h e r,

we bleed

as one
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your

eyes say

a l w a y s,

come

h o m e

to me
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your

lips mouth

w o r d s,

that

feed my

s o u l
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your

arms

they

hold me,

i know

i n f i n i t y
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it’s

your l o v e…

and it’s

a l l

i will

e v e r

need,

to

b e
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this poem was written to the tempo of this song.
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our brave Linda

dear friends this is a writing departure
but i hope by the end you will understand
why it had to be written…ty.
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so what ever
happened to trust?

so what ever
happened to honesty?

so what ever
happened

to caring at all that
a little skin on skin
with someone else isn’t
really gonna’ fill that void?

darlin’
in these past ten years
just how many of your friends
have come to you crying?
yet another marriage up in flames

and now your bestie girlfriend Linda
and my own sympatico soul sister
her heart is now ripped inside out too
found he was cheating 4 of their 16 years

so what ever
happened to everlasting?

so what ever
happened to committment?

so what ever
happened

to caring at all that
a little skin on skin
with someone else just
causes such unbearable pain?

and we thought she was safe
their marriage passed the test of time
and we felt so shocked and helpless
you just listened…letting her cry and cry

and darlin’
you know i don’t get this mad very often
but this news just sucked out my breath
so i just had to put this upset somewhere
and writing poems…it’s how i show i care

look in her eyes

for you Linda
from me

from what souless depths does it begin
or can your smooth deceptions justify
breaking her, piece by piece?

and mouthing your nonchalant swift lies
as if her world was still everything she knew,
spinning on it’s easy axis.

did you really think a day would never come,
that day you could not look in her eyes
and tell her what you’ve done?

crying eyes photo: Crying Eye eye-26.jpg

so yeah,
it was touch and go there for a while
with you coming home late after later nights
being that best friend forever that i know so well

and sometimes it just all works out the way it should

so darlin’,
our brave Linda she slowly found her footing
maybe even sooner than she believed she could
and nailing a framed copy of her poem to the wall
nonchalantly showing that now ex husband to the door
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both Linda and Scout, my partner are singers and this song
speaks about the power of music. if you feel like a second read,
please play the song and pick up the tempo the poem was written to.
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