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Helen

There was no money for pictures in 1933.

 

I want to know.

What color were the untamed wildflowers

Crawling up the house among the weeds?

 

They had names.

Black eyed Susan.

Daisy.

Dandelion.

 

But the faded sepia photo refuses its secrets,

So many secrets.

 

I will never know, but imagine

Your checkered dress is blue, and white.

Your mother combed your blonde hair to the side,

And fastened the big grosgrain bow.

 

You loved the touch of her rough peasant hands.

 

I want to know.

Who captured that moment?

I will never know if this was you before, or after

Your world was changed—

Your father lost to his own hand,

Janos laid out in the family room.

In the corner, among the well-wishers whispering of shame,

 

Your shy smile, pedaling in the dirt to your future.

Helen, Mommy–

Was that smile one of innocence or bravery?

 

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Litha

litha

It’s not dangerous to play with fire—

You are insured.

 

White-robed dryad dancing barefoot in the midnight light—

Daughter of the oaks, you circle the flames,

Driving away dragons with your magic words.

 

You satisfy the sun god—

His face mirrored in a thousand green masks,

Gazing down through the foliate canopy.

 

The earth tilts on its axis and the sun stands still—

Rising to the highest point of its circle,

And then turns back.

 

The day of the Lord of Light

The dying of the old order

The rising of the new

The beginning of the end

 

No one will believe you fled to the woods on your own.

They will say you fell into the inferno.

No one will believe you stepped down on your own.

They will always say you fell.

 

 

 

 

 

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ghost sonata

 

 

The Ghost Sonata

 

Immoral and brave,

I ignore church bells and the threats of hell.

 

The cripple reaches for me.

I have nothing for him—

Not his pencils, nor his pleas.

I will not push his chair.

 

Your whole life has been a fairy tale,

A single thread joining it together—

The leitmotif broken,

Pink lace in shards on the floor.

 

I am the caretaker,

Sunday’s child full of grace, fallen.

 

The clock has stopped.

The marble lady in the square regards me with disdain.

 

She has never seen such a broken masterpiece—

Sitting in a closet, eyes unable to see the day.

I can’t stand the light.

 

Pretty Polly, bright blue budgie.

Polly, whistle and sing for us, blonde girl.

 

When a house gets old, it gets moldy.

And when people sit around tormenting each other for so long,

They go mad.

 

Be quiet, Polly.

 

My name is Susan.

I can’t wipe the past clean.

 

Oh hyacinth, flower of my soul—

Snow-white roots,

Innocent and reborn.

 

A Dream Play

 

Oh, Daughter of Indra—

Descended to Earth,

Through Daddy’s clouds and thunder.

His lightning pierces the anthracite sky,

As you fall, fall.

 

You want to know what it’s like

To be human—

Feet sunk in clay,

The mud and blood, the failing flesh.

 

Why is it so hard to breathe?

 

You have left the second world and entered a third.

Bright chrysanthemum,

Hating the filth, pushing to the light,

Only to bloom and die.

 

Wrapped in your shawl,

Absorbing the world’s pain—

 

My child, the rough wool will never be big enough.

 

The silver thread is snapped.

You are earthbound.

 

Then you know what poetry is.

Then you know what dreams are.

Then you know what it means to love.

 

Dreams are always better than reality.

The struggle between the torment of pleasure,

And the suffering that brings release.

 

Oh, daughter of the rain,

Do you return to the clouds unscathed?

Or will you bring our supplications to the throne of heaven?

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@realDonaldTrump

twitter

45th President of the United States of America

Washington, DC

Joined March 2009

 

Played golf today with Prime Minister Abe of Japan and @TheBig_Easy, Ernie Els,

And had a great time.

Japan is very well represented!

 

I don’t know Putin, have no deals in Russia,

And the haters are going crazy –

Yet Obama can make a deal with Iran,

#1 in terror, no problem!

 

Don’t believe the main stream (fake news) media.

The White House is running VERY WELL.

I inherited a MESS and am in the process of fixing it.

 

The so-called angry crowds in home districts of some Republicans are actually,

In numerous cases, planned out by liberal activists.

 

Sad!

 

Great optimism for future of U.S. business, AND JOBS,

With the DOW having an 11th straight record close.

 

Big tax & regulation cuts coming!

 

I am so proud of my daughter Ivanka.

To be abused and treated so badly by the media,

And to still hold her head so high,

Is truly wonderful!

 

Give the public a break –

The FAKE NEWS media is trying to say

That large scale immigration in Sweden is working out just beautifully.

 

NOT!

 

My statement as to what’s happening in Sweden

Was in reference to a story

That was broadcast on @FoxNews concerning immigrants & Sweden.

 

Maybe the millions of people who voted

To MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN should have their own rally.

It would be the biggest of them all!

 

FAKE NEWS media knowingly doesn’t tell the truth.

A great danger to our country.

The failing @nytimes has become a joke.

Likewise @CNN.

 

Sad!

 

Find the leakers within the FBI itself.

Classified information is being given to media

That could have a devastating effect on U.S.

 

FIND NOW

 

Seven people shot and killed yesterday in Chicago.

What is going on there – totally out of control.

 

Chicago needs help!

 

Stock market hits new high with longest winning streak in decades.

Great level of confidence and optimism –

Even before tax plan rollout!

 

I will not be attending the White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner this year. Please wish everyone well and have a great evening!

 

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

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Housekeeping

housekeepinh

First, there’s a bag, then a box—

And another, then many more.

 

You fill a rusted dumpster with

Mismatched chipped dishes,

Shoes that gave you blisters.

 

Those stiff taffeta dresses from 1959,

Still smelling of your aunt’s verbena cologne—

You keep those.

Breathing in the memory, recalling all.

 

The detritus of experience builds its curious momentum.

Memories trapped in the stone dust basement,

Hurled outward in a mushroom plume.

 

How do you wipe clean a half-century?

 

Quickly, an impartial executioner—

Rinsing the blood from your knife.

 

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To Pee or Not to Pee

gavingrim__14891472575750

-For Gavin Grimm, who took it to the Supreme Court

 

That is the question.

 

My government now tells me where—

In a private stall, on the other side of the school,

By the nurse’s office.

 

I make the walk of shame to be

 

Unisex.

 

I am not unisex.

I am a boy,

Not a hazard or a threat to you.

But maybe one to the status quo.

 

You know,

I just want to be me.

I just want to pee.

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Belltown Drugs

daddy

I remember the variety store
Where Daddy bought his
New York Daily News

and how he tucked
the Necco wafers in his pocket
for me
always in a different place:
the hip pocket of his pleated best,
up his sleeve, behind his ear.

But always for me…

***

The comic books cost 12 cents –

same as a Hostess cupcake.
I always got both.

I peeled away,
the sticky chocolate layer,
its curled white icing lace,
smearing messy fingers
on my pink Sunday bestdress.

Daddy, he lit a Kent Gold,
and babygirl climbed into
the baby blue Chevy BelAire,

You, daddy, and me.
we partners in crime.

 

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