Soft Places

All of the hope I have

fits in the tender inside part

of my palm.

In that soft place where I liked to be kissed

Gently – with only a small noise

when I am feeling bad.

Warm breath in hand

Hold it if you can,

Then flip it to the stars!

There you are,

Same as you once were.

Smiling – not frowning and angry

like this I don’t know you.

Full of hot air

All of your substance has leaked out 

And your love is not showing. 

Come now baby,

Light my fire!

Take the mind higher

than this.

It is not the time to stand still,

and worry about what is substance

and what is fill.

It is all distraction,

while fat men sit under shady fig trees

Scratching their old dog fleas,

With feet up like the Cheshire cat,

Doing nothing about this or that.

Now rooted to flashy terminals,

trying to be right all day long,

sending likes up to the sky,

Wondering at all emptiness inside.

Expounding yourself to death

want to be happy, wrong or right?

Yet, someone always says you can

pull the mind from the root of itself,

Just like the earth,

maybe when we die?

Crumbling from a long broken heart,

Love does not destroy happiness,

just to be right.





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