Cinema of Play

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This began when we began
And many times we came
To sit here in the cool, cool dark
And light our secret flame

I loved you with adventure
With action and romance
And in this very place we sat
Whenever we’d the chance.

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This place is boarded up now,
Maybe they’ll renovate:
Like you and I need something
To recreate the great.

We don’t sit in the dark here,
And feel our private thrill:
And time to spend is time alone
And time’s just time to kill.

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There tearing down this place today
And I don’t even know
Where you are living, or with whom
Or where you next might go.

I loved our many nights here
Our Cinema of Play
But cinemas are only dreams
Long daylight burns away.

Where Have You Gone, My Lonely Friend?

Sun on fhe River

Where have you gone, my lonely friend?
Why have you gone away?

I’m here by the fire, to tend my sick.
I’ll come on a better day.

Where are you hiding, my lovely friend?
Why I can’t I hear your song?

I’m singing at home, though my voice is tired
You’ll hear it, I’m sure, before long.

Why are you crying, my lovesome friend?
How can I calm your fears?

Just sing me a song, like we used to sing
In the time before all of these tears.

Why are you sleeping, my lovelost friend?
Why has your music gone still?

The sun’s on the river
The moon has gone down
And winter hangs hard on this homely town
The last leaf has fallen
Where no one could see
And so it has been between you and me
And so will it ever be.

Where have you gone, my lonely friend?
Why have you gone away?

Observationalia

Hang around here in the blogosphere
And you’ll notice a thing, or two —
Like you can discuss almost anything
‘Cause here, nothing’s really taboo.

You can write in detail about that one bad habit
Or write about sex more than rabbits can have it.
Politics, faith and your first ovulation;
An interesting blog would make rude conversation.

But I’ve found one thing that nobody will do.
So it appears there’s at least one last taboo —
Its what people earn. I read nary a croak
About people’s income — unless they are broke.

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A Soul, Lost

Walking By

Baby
Dependent, powerless
Reaching, grasping, hungering
Satisfied in love’s embrace
Child

Changing
Powerful, animate
Reaching, grasping, searching
Unhappy alone or accompanied
Growing

Conqueror
Dominant, willful
Reaching, grasping, controlling
Fleeting joys of victory
Winner

Soulless
Friendless, valueless
Reaching, grasping, stealing
Slowly fading, ever fading
Hollow

Full Stop Period Piece

I took an elastic band.
I drew dots on the band each one inch apart.
I nailed one end of the band to a table.
I stretched the band.
The farther from the nail a dot was, the greater the distance moved.
This is a property of expanding things that are constrained on one side.

So it is with us, the human dots, the living monads.
Those willing to stretch move apart from those who will not.

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The Albany Neglected

Here am I, where no one knows the way.
I sleep in shadow through the creeping day.
I think it best to not get up again
And haunt once more the avenues of men.

My sister lives here too, she was the first
To find this place; before our bubbles burst
And spent themselves, quite useless, to the air,
So we this silent watch could ever share.

She ran alive into a hail of life,
While I lived angry, cultivating strife –
But none remember where we lived, or how;
We lie, forgotten, underneath this bough.

So each day, try to add another friend –
When none remain you knew, you die again