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aayoung

Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Random Shit

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art

contentment & vine

when you find the corner

of contentment & vine

chaos comes as a dark-eyed lover

yellow cab splashing

through the crosswalk puddle

leaving you nothing but dripping regrets

and the keys to an apartment building

still burning

uprooted

you can sit at a table

drinking wine

palms flat to the wood

without remembering

that table was ever a tree

but my heart will never forget

it bled for you

once

struggling mites of the planet

standing in the shower

this morning

i saw a spider die fighting

against the current of water

and i thought to myself

i could write a few lines for that lost arachnid

his own rime of the ancient mariner

an ode to the minutiae

the miniscule struggling mites of the planet

but what’s the fucking point of flowery conjecture

regarding what does and doesn’t matter

i can’t save him with words

or write an appropriate memorial

nor can i save

a gassed syrian baby

or a woman standing

in the way of an exploding madman panel truck

the waning poet in me cries out for a god

who stood us up

who split with our luggage

who never checked in

at the hotel airport

yeah, i could write a poem

if i remembered

what a poet is

what’s more poetic

than a poet

who doesn’t

feel like a poet

anymore

 

forever stamps

the longer we live
we learn that reality
is volatile
changeable
an inconstant lover

ah, but…
what would have been…
what amounts to regret
what amounts to loss
is god damned indestructible

iron ore into steel

& then forever

asphalt nile

driving to work

sleepy eyes searching for signs

of life

rounding mount adams

on columbia parkway

asphalt nile

church of the immaculata watching over

queen’s tiara skyline

the city unfurls

buildings rising

to meet the sunlight

morning glory blossoms

in cincinnati

 

 

war by candlelight

amidst the curiosities

of my yet to be packed up

roll top desk

i found a diamond bracelet

you had given me

hiding in one of

the apothecary drawers

it reminded me immediately

how you waged

war by candlelight

instinctively i pulled the pin

on that gauche grenade

lobbing the tacky bauble

into the goose shit encircled pond

behind the house

your weaponry

is not welcome here

anymore

this house has a history

 

i put on some water for tea

then decided to mop the floors

of our new little nest

before the furniture gets carried in

before the rest of our lives happen

Murphy’s Oil Soap

water and sunshine into a bucket

carried through the echoing emptiness

of what will be

over original hardwood

placed there in 1941

i love to clean

the ritual of it

i write in my thoughts as i work

images painting themselves

into spaces around my gentle humming

spreading wet across the grain

seeing hands that mopped this floor

before me

wives husbands

fathers mothers

lovers and

put-upon teenagers

oh this house

has a history

built the year

the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor

it’s all still there

nailed down memories

layers of time entombed in wax

someone stood in that living room and heard

we dropped the bomb

we landed at Normandy

of a flag raised in Iwo-Jima

Kennedy was dead

Vietnam was a lost cause only good

for folded flags being handed to weeping mothers

Nixon was a crook

Reagan and John Lennon had been shot

the Berlin wall had fallen

i heard first steps

crying babies

crying widows

joyous laughter

say cheese

wine glasses clinking together

realizing with a smile

this floor is mine

the foundation of a family

and i will love it

then

the teapot

began to whistle

 

 

 

 

 

violets

i would like to believe
there is a heaven
where every flower
withered on earth
blooms eternally

i would like to believe
there is a heaven
for loves that were
never to be

a heaven
for all dreams
that would have been
beautiful

trying to throw your arms around the world

U2 is spinning on the turntable

achtung, baby

arguably their best album

trying to throw my arms your arms around the world

as i sort through my life

purging

packing

moving on to this next chapter

having raised boys into men

clearing the detritus

of four lifetimes

of mistakes

losses

victories

regrets

hearts broken

hearts mended

lessons learned

love found

all this living done

and tomorrow night

stars will find a way

to fill the sky

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