Hertogeneity

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I may have been the next Holden Caulfield

But life intervened in a charitable fashion

That’s not to say that I hadn’t been affected

By things I experienced, witnessed, or lived

Clearly, I’d be one of the first to fully admit

People let you down, though it’s uncertain

If each time it was intentionally motivated

I error on the side of caution, to believe not     

If I am truly the product of my environment

Who is it by name, to fault, to seek recompense?        

What would any of that gain me now, so late;

A dying flower will still wilt away, will it not?     

Rather than become an imaginary inky character

I became the outcome of myself… in real life  

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Poet of the Light © 2022

Reflexion

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My wounds will never openly heal

Any more than my love stops flowing

Not so long as I remain, mere human

They scar but remain vulnerable

To rawness each passing day nudges

And love from others soothes my aches  

Just as my love will alleviate- theirs

If I could heal my own pain alone  

What value could I embrace in others?

Even the sun and moon have one another   

Just as the damaged shore and oceans

Will maintain each other’s composure                

To love yourself first is selfish fiction

To love others first… is a love gifted

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Poet of the Light © 2022

Cosu consulto

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I’ll ask myself questions

Seeking answers, I’ll never get

And some I know already

But truthfully, I don’t want 

If only- I could just swap

The ones that matter most

Ignoring all consequences that follow

Oh, I live a paradox, I don’t control

But even if perchance I did  

I doubt if it would be any better

I tell myself some things are accidents

While believing it happens on purpose     

Like every love, I found I also lost

Unbeknownst what’s best… is yet to come

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Poet of the Light © 2022

Reptilians

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There are those deft people    

Who are often diplomatic

With their calculating wit

In answers and sentiments

But secretly being dismissive

To lesser skilled practitioners

That brave in honesty upfront

Reveling their desires or trust

Risking all their vulnerability

For sake of something- purer    

Just to be wounded or slayed

By sharp tongue of wordplay      

When deft secretly fears a love

They’re just too incapable…of

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Poet of the Light © 2022

Our own

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There are a great many pathways

Throughout our life we encounter

The road taken: is often mistaken

Romantically as correct direction

Just as often we simply ride it out

In part to avoid some humiliation

Unbeknownst- the world- knows

Oh! The unwinding irony at play  

We’ll live as if it’s still- our secret    

As if it be shameful to turn around

Or embark some alternative route    

As I’ve learned along these byways

We can choose to follow inner truth

Only take a path left…undiscovered  

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Poet of the Light © 2022

Closed

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How easy I must really make it

For my all critics to attack me

For refusing to feed the toxicity  

When I see their obtuse denial      

They find beautiful- in mirrors

Lacking their real objectivity  

As what defines my observations

How smug my words must flow

Since I will and often do let go

As I walk away from ignorance

Without the need of affirmation       

I did offer my friendly intentions   

And done so without the expense

Of integrity…for mere acceptance

Poet of the Light © 2022

Shapes of truths

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They come in so many shapes and colors

Like leaves of trees in multi seasons

It starts when we’re at our youngest

Indoctrinations by parents and or siblings

All the deference we learn by error

Usually at our own perils or punishments

Reinforced by him who rules the truth box

The royal compass of respect and intelligence

However ignorant and delusional

Also dictates truths shape and tone values

No matter how convoluted it appears

The greater its complexities are to know

The harder the truth is to break or dull

And once you adopt these truths

You also assume their ongoing evolutions

If by some miracle you can keep up

Cause we only know it has transformed

After, we have been unabashedly corrected

Or slapped alongside our heads for ignorance

Left bewildered by unexpected changes  

But like these stranger truths, we evolve

Adapting to changes by observations

Listening attentively when they interchanged

And when and why they never do

Until we move onwardly, to elsewhere

And like all good learners, we simply blend

Into the fabric where we now live- evolving  

Like tiny seeds, the storms carried off

Until they’re too heavy for light winds to bare

Left behind somewhere- discarded

As if no longer valued or needed  

To take root into soils of newer truths

Where we again, adapt, silently graph onto

We grow and mingle amongst harsh stones

And toxic overgrown weeds of many colors

Where the sun and shades trade places  

Until we rule as royalty of our truth box

Different shape, colors, and false as ever

But when it’s your box, who cares?   

And the truth we know right then

Resembling nothing whatsoever

Like we first learned…as kids

Poet of the Light © 2022

Mortal introspect 5:09

Long read-

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Oh! How I long for where I’ve never been

The things not done but left to dreams

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Perhaps that’s the realest way- to long  

Strange to make such a statement

Aloud or even in writing, all alone- now

And no one is anymore the wisest  

As it never appears in conversations

With people that evade speaking

Forgetting we are fighting different battles

Of the same war, but on different levels

As mine has brought me to here- this moment   

This place in my fray of subsistence

Where tattered emotions and scars frequent

Like old friends that never abandon you   

Where echoes of cheers have quieted

Out of respect, I suppose- to memories

That has been slowly falling asleep

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Oh! How a good cigarette might taste

But I reckon it be like a polite misnomer

Rather than what they call it these days

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I struggle to remain awake in late darkness

And slip off before a fresh dawn rises

It’s almost like some personal game or plague

With me and night as the only players or victims  

Why for; I haven’t any real clue to confess

But I must admit, I feel as if I always lose

There’s no one to avoid, greet or regret  

Dawn is one of my more consistent visitors  

It’s just a thing that I now do before rest

And I know inside its very rude of me too

Dreaming has left me to turn and toss

As if it’s being too polite to intervene

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Oh! How I love a good coffee about now     

My palate craves my mid-day mornings

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So, back and forth I go, stirred half awake

Into a more zombie type of state

Missing dreams that spark optimism  

Creative youths secretly dream about

Less than an hour to go before light breaks

And hidden shadows fall on the ground

Like seasonal dried-out colorless leaves

How I felt that was myself in dark times

Waiting for the sun to chase them off

Like annoying neighborhood children

Too loud to be courteous to others

Because self-absorbed is now in fashion   

Replacing traditional church bells

That used to toll a fellowship difference    

And lift the spirits of a community

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 Oh! How I loved to nestle up close

To a warm and most spirited body

Linger in the scent of connectivity

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Ahh, to let all my heavier weariness go

Feel the weight slip off like water

Slowly breathe in and out a bit easier

With my eyelids gentle shutting out

My mind and hearts endless conversations

They seem to know it won’t last forever

Whereby they’re taking full advantage

Within that realm of my own conscious

About some of things I could’ve changed

Other things I wished I had never done

Or of some of the shortfalls, I missed

More importantly the ones I’d do again

And love, well love always tops the list  

As for now, for a few mortal seconds   

May my soul cocoon me… for just a bit

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Poet of the Light © 2022    

Cogency

I seem to be living in a time

Doubt rises with the dawn

Long before I open my eyes

I got a whole lot going on

Winds of change circle me

Like a cloud of confusion

Nothing is gained or freed

I’m left with no one to talk to

Lord knows- this ain’t easy

But I wish it could be with you      

Knowing you were listening

Made all the difference for me  

When I felt like I was being heard

And my words mattered… too

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Poet of the Light © 2022

Duty of truth

I’ve searched my erstwhile times

When I had a love affair with life

Like a child’s prepubescent crush  

On someone in walls of silence

Where even my soul celebrated

And I was devoid of responsibilities

But time ushered in newer knowledge

Often in those lackluster lessons             

Where I learned about authentic

And genuine held separate distinctions            

Love is a mature act all its own

But far too often nefariously misused    

Conflating preference, with loves actions

As children when adults… know better

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Poet of the Light © 2022