May I Please

How many years must a writer write — before they’re deemed to be free? How often do I hear myself counseling those kids who are— my generation behind? Want to be a writer? Say it loud, proud, with a…

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naked

I can throw off the poetry in a second or two,
it is just fine clothing after all, silk with diamonds,
gold and silver lace, woven with love and care.

tapestries of women weeping, and men sleeping,
the crying river and the drowning hearts and souls
in the deep blue seas, lost in the gardens of the gods.

all of these I have penned, finally tuned to capture you,
your ears, and then your heart, that you might smile,
relax, and move inside me as the wind moves into sea.

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