20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


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sad way

thCAW0NR7V

often in
vulnerable
moments

or any
random
millisecond

in
the
tiniest

stain

scent

syllable

spark

igniting its
p a i n f u l
memory

because

i hold so near
the echo of
e a c h

tear

i

ever

caused

…and regrets
and my searing
m e l a n c h o l y

but
if this
is the

story
of the
world

unfolded

why such
a sad way to
…finally reach

shore

home

find

love

y o u ?
.
.
.

.
We only hurt the ones we love
Why we don’t need a reason
Gonna get all that you deserve
And all that you believe in

Beth Orton


2 Comments

some memory’s are better than others

Do You Remember the First Time?

Do You Remember the First Time? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

With everything I can’t remember , a random memory will( it seems) rear it’s being at the exact time as I didn’t need to remember it… is it getting older…Hmmmm I’m not so sure…I’m thinking we lose certain memory’s to maintain balance ..with that said (just my opinion)…I read some of my old posts (I was in a very dark place for a while) but I never really remembered some of them …really weird …, I have also been dreaming some things from the past , dredging up old pain …. I don’t know why….I wish it would stop tho….any way I’m done rambling for now …Have a good night all…peace


13 Comments

our old truck

‘conversation with you
was like a drug
it wasn’t your face
so much as it was your words’
Lucinda Williams

the farm 019

with light in my shadows
and cuts soft through my circles
you keep me from falling once again
but your words always did that for me

like that very first time
sitting in my old pick up truck
listening to Lucinda’s twang tell us
why we didn’t want that night to end

only you could convince
this shy boy to sing harmony
when it was your perfect voice
all i ever really wanted to hear

and my muraled furniture met
your folk art painted window panes
we got poor when greed burned the economy
chasing dreams i got crushed in its crossfire

‘We are not selling that truck!’
oh darlin’ you didn’t have to shout
everything i could ever hope to know about you
i would have heard your devotion in a whisper

and now our old truck
is getting some love in return
we shared these past ten years
and when she comes back
all painted blue and purrin’
wait for me again to turn the corner
from the side window like you did

and darlin’,
snuggle up against me
on that old bench seat
let’s listen to our song windows down
summer and hope blowing through our hair

talk to me like poetry
its essence of our love in your glance
and every word knows when to be
we can talk again ’til dawn
yeah, we can just drive all night long


2 Comments

digital misivs

 photo 20130423_122711.jpg

jacked on Marlboro’s and mocha java
she lives safely in her word cloud,
laying belly down with candy wrappers
littering the unkempt futon bed.

smartphone, notebook glowing
in that messy shades drawn room
and sometimes pink hair spilling
out a Neff cap covered eyes.

Skye, exists as ‘anonymous’
tattood and thin, small framed
her cool demeanor her paler skin
nothing touched her since he left.

and crossing paths in the gangway
with the new boy down the hall,
his immediate smile spoke volumes
he brushed against her as they talked.

but that spark its cruel reminder
of hurt she really can’t forget
her promise to call forgotten,
the spark was just suppressed.

Skye spent that night as every night
a private etherland of love
texting poems of lust her loneliness,
drift…digital misivs through the dark.


1 Comment

stay

in this my life,
in unscripted moments
in some random milisecond
in every wound this world delivered
in my deliberate fear of poetry and love.

your love
presents itself,
not in random miliseconds
but in its encompassing eternity.
loving not by choice but your devotion.

and i
know that…now

and it frightens me.
and now my choice to make,
and be everything i’ve never been
and stay everywhere i’ve never remained.

thCA0R3DXM


1 Comment

bracelet

a poet,

he pens

fervent reminders.

she reads

clicking ‘like’,

collecting each one.

an inner

monologue.

their conversation.

pure, so

truly fragile

our whispers of love.

his poems

on a bracelet

her reminder each day.

thCAUP099Z


6 Comments

glide

what
benefit
has your love
so quiet and fearful,
dormant in its shrouded heart?

please
don’t believe
the pale vocabulary
of this ambivalant world,
silence its own sharp betrayal.

and what
benefit has my
abundant heart if
not sharing our pain?

i am
not afraid
of your fear.

reach then,
reach for my hand
the true sky is waiting.
couple these hearts together
and we can glide above this fray.

sunrise animated photo: Sunrise 1 sunrise.jpg

Written April 2013


4 Comments

cradle

how

did you

with so few words

and that infinite glance,

detour the world’s cruelties

never speak of forgiven mistakes

allay every fear and each lingering doubt

absorb life’s injustice in your enormous heart?

and the electricity of fingertips awakened my senses

yet i never thought once i deserved to be loved.

and now curling safely in it’s cradle embrace

how, is a question i hope has an answer.

but

how is

that question

i’ll continue to ask……

thCAFM6OAP


1 Comment

bloom

thCA42BGX3

with delicate and

slow unfurling

let me savor

then, every

curl and

ruffle.

our

spring

is upon us

i’m here waiting,

an ear to your soil

and listening.

always.


2 Comments

Through

Setting the Dark on Fire

Through that night

and from across a room

Through crowded strangers

and all my awkward shyness

Through every hurt remembered

and scattering debris of aborted plans

Through a slow death in every unloved soul

and that night, that miracle night

Through our infinity of eyes

and every hum and flutter

Through faith rewarded

and there was you

and every night

there was you


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gentle brush

thCA1S0L72

wash warm hues, gentle brush

across a heart forgotten.

it’s soft caress no sadness lingers

renew it’s every fray and tear.

create a masterpiece, my lovely

erase all coloring of fear.

nuance streamed light and shadows

our layered texture, sweet romance.

and devote each waking minute

as Monet with Lily Pads.


8 Comments

reach me

thCA1FLI0V

through

all of my life

i’ve hid inside shadows,

never willing to

believe

there was someone

like you

to

reach me.
.

please,

don’t give up

on who you think you’ve found.

because it’s you

and only you

will ever

find

me.

written April 2013


3 Comments

that day

    She arrives

    looseygoosey

    through the door

    light on her toes

    despite our

    few days of

    separation,

    for years the

    weekly ritual.

    Our eyes meet
    grey to grey and
    her skin color mine,
    though reaching down
    to kiss her forehead
    seemed easier that day.

    Hands could always effortlessly wrap around
    my fingertips meeting at her sometimes ponytail,
    or mingling among those tangled golden curls.

    And when did her head snug in at my chest when we hugged?
    Like the kitchen door frame penciled ever higher in our old house,
    maybe our bodies will mark those imperceptable passages now?
    Time it seems to move so slowly until that day, when it doesn’t.
    .


    .
    my first poem
    written April 2012,
    revised April 2013

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