Someone Lost a Son Today

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Trap the ghosts past the roads with paths bespoke by the

savage folk and meritless madness,

 

Casks of oak last for hope if cash is dope to the

master’s rope and devilish masses,

 

Blind to grief of best friends with time at peace to lend less

and hide their old quarters now,

 

Pines and leaves are dead next to line the trees with Semtex

and wipe the whole forest out,

 

Despite a leader shunning battle as

a rambler if it’s fun,

 

A fire eater hunting Sappho with

a rattler and a gun,

 

No plate of true prayers will

sell to a sold jury,

 

A snake that shoots daggers like

its hell has no fury,

 

Seeding mud with split seeds as indeed enough will

live free to find what’s left of seeds sown,

 

Leading up a shit creek and bleeding love as

pricks bleed to dine with Death or Deimos,

 

Come on toss the gun away and

run across the water,

 

Someone lost a son today and

someone lost a daughter,

 

Eventually the end is seen and blends the scene with the

best of the cheese and the rattle of the rum,

 

Empathy is meant for me like destiny in the

depths of the trees or the shadows of the son,

 

Go clear the weather from the roads like

it’s feathers of the beast,

 

So, here’s a letter to the folks and

a letter to the east,

 

Written in the ink like a prison on the brink with

the dark lands deep as dust,

 

Children in the sink like it’s ‘It’ when they blink, and

the charred hands reach for us.

bleed for youempathy incarnateholorimeVerisimilitude: Volume 2

◄ Arboretum

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Comments

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Big Sal

Tue 1st Jan 2019 20:50

Thanks, Becky! Long time no see.😎

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Becky Who

Tue 1st Jan 2019 20:16

I love this. I like the shorter lines best - the way they jump out at you from the rest and hit you with a profound rhyme.

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Big Sal

Sat 29th Dec 2018 22:26

Thanks much, AM.

I always try.

Very happy to see new readers of my work come by and take notice. You have a great New Year.👍

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AM Cash

Sat 29th Dec 2018 22:13

Darkness and love run deep in your poetry. Charred hands reaching out. Seeds sown reminds me of a poem penned about how in no man's land in WW1 young men's bodies end up deep in the mud to breakdown and be the body of our future bread.

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AM Cash

Sat 29th Dec 2018 22:08

Wow this is a mind blowing poem. I will let my WOL know about this. What I love is it has so much power in many different voices. You can rap it or read it out loud. Would love to read this out loud one day.

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Big Sal

Fri 28th Dec 2018 23:15

Thank you for thinking so, Po. Here's until the day they can reanimate a body with words instead of electricity.

(On a side note, isn't it just crazy that every heart beat is electrical?)👍

Man, life is beautiful. .

poemagraphic

Fri 28th Dec 2018 18:35

…"Written in the ink like a prison on the brink with the dark lands deep as dust"

Big Guy Your ink flows to float the lost souls across the divide betwixt the living and the dead.

This piece is wonderous in its image making properties.

Po

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Big Sal

Fri 28th Dec 2018 14:45

Empathy = the lost virtue. Maybe it never was really found, but now it's hiding better than ever.

Thank you, Jon.

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Jon Stainsby

Fri 28th Dec 2018 14:42

but it does take a moment's thought and consideration.

How many of us take the time to use that moment?

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Big Sal

Fri 28th Dec 2018 14:37

It doesn't cost a damn penny to be kind or empathetic to another.

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