Sea, Sometimes Sky, Lord (1/24/2020). -M.Weisgerber

The lay of land beyond this window love
above the very oilspot of me this eve,
it shimmers; it seems ever twisting
as it rides outward, up onward
toward that dividing line of sea (sometimes sky).

It was to this scene that I remain pulled,
Never realizing it was but the rain that splits the two,
not shuddering, barely weeping over us.
trying to quit that booze, the scratchy flavor of
sometimes drying eyes adding their own mesmer.

For its iris season out there, as we chase the last drippings of sun,
some solar curiosity that draws us, still winking fast
(how it pulls up, up - my soul going there too.)
Remaining flustered on how to cross this hot sand,
on if its feet, or a hand, or stammer calling onward.

I swear I saw tears upon that water
a slowing of the sharp view of the head,
so deceived as to need a new locale, new destination
No name, no time, no me to list.
The fall upon this world of scandal, that, a scoundrel

I swear I saw that sky ripped in twain,
I swear I felt a heart so pulled,
I swear I came around.
One that could be better met.

Leave your goods out there for better gods to pillage, I

only rest here in the blame.  

Death March (3/29/19). -M.Weisgerber

On that beach (which one?)
the one that matters, the one you won my heart on
Over, as the waves crashed,
on, as the waves smashed.
I there died, and yet was so oft reborn.

I would carry you tomorrow, I would, all the Seattle sunrise fine,
take and make you, that Sound woman I always knew and ever thought you'd be.
I can't spell, I can't make that woman understand (or myself)
Instead upon another island, another beachside nearing.

I matched them fine,
I felt the long lanes till Diamond Head,
There was a chapel there,
Fake sand, imported from elsewhere

I walked and walked and walked.
I died along that long hike,
didn't I tell you?
didn't you notice, as I neared?

How did I know she chased?
How did I know that she would always love,
until she didn't, until I
oh, stupid I, foolish I, until I died.

Just kill the part inside, just take that part that I,
would have to offer,
have offered evermore.

Take me love, until I keel over,
surfside.

There Will Come a Point (3/27/2020). -M.Weisgerber

There will come a point, where I have lived here longer than there,
than with you and that large house, and all the heat festering on the outside.

The crows that wake me here every morn, it was
the thick of the treated air, the cold you desired that shook me

the lack of traffic and the utter stillness at your place,
the utter loveliness by which you in mornings did do up your face.

Your gentle kindness, always being a reminder
that something more approaches, it was always coming. 

Down the aisle, up the drive - it was always something seen
by you, sometimes I (not always I). 

For it was, is, still will remain a sweltering climate,
All brambles, and twigs, and an occasionally unkempt yard.

I wish I had accomplished more, for my mind now dwells
in the roaming litany of your halls, the walls too all an echo

of the many things that contain us.

Imagine me, traveling salesman that I, coming up that same drive,
Looking to sell, another number on a chart, when that door opens

The one seeming up high, with windows, and the many creatures looking down,
One girl, now behind me, who was taking out the trash,

just a solitary wife, looking thin, looking
as if all the world is in front of her. 

There is love in that house, and though neither I nor her yet know it,
that door did not open for her, nor me - only best sometimes for the leaving,

I prowling around the basement, her, keeping the same old shop
she ever was and used to be. 

I love those days, though I have had to make them up for myself, I love
the many ways the words now flow out and around to greet you.

May they be a cautionary tale, of a lovestruck man -
this salesman wandering by, if only just to occasionally hold her. 

You're Doing Fine. -Charlotte Eriksson

The stars are brilliant at this time of night
and I wander these streets like that ritual I don’t dare to break
for darling, these times are quite glorious.

I left him by the water’s edge,
still waving long after the ship was gone
and if someone would have screamed my name I wouldn’t have heard for I’ve said goodbye so many times in my short life that farewells are just a muscular task and I’ve taught them all well.
There’s a place by the side of the railway near the lake where I grew up and I used to go there to bury things and start anew.
I used to go there sometimes to say goodbye.
I was young and did not know many people but I had hidden things inside that I never dared to show and in silence I tried to kill them,
murder one way or the other,
leaving sin on my body
scrubbing tears off with salt
and I built my rituals in such farewells.
Endings I still cling to.

So I go to the ocean to say goodbye.
Like I always do.

I turned away from that blue pit
as not to fall for its plea
for it used to seduce and consume me
and there was this one night
a few years back and I was not yet accustomed to farewells
and just like now I stood waving long after the ship was gone.
But I was younger then and easily fooled
and the ocean was deep and dark and blue
and I took my shoes off to let the water freeze the smallness of my bones.
I waded until I could no longer walk and it was too cold to swim but still I kept on walking at the bottom of the sea for I could not tell the difference between the ocean and the lack of someone I loved and I had not yet learned how the task of moving on is as necessary as survival.

Then days passed by and I spent them with my work
and now I’m writing letters I will never dare to send.
But there is this one day every year or so
when the burden gets too heavy
and I collect my belongings I no longer need
and make my way to the ocean to burn and drown and start anew
drown baby drown
and it is quite wonderful, setting fire to my chains and flames on written words
and I stand there, starring deep into the heat until they’re all gone.
Nothing left to hold me back.

You kissed me that morning as if you’d never done it before and never would again and now I write another letter that I will never dare to send, collecting memories of loss
like chains wrapped around my veins,
and if you see a fire from the shore tonight
it’s my chains going up in flames.

The time of the moon is quite glorious.
Babe, we could have been so glorious.

In Darkness. -Haley Yanti

In darkness we can taste the stars and other light
emanating outwards, opalescent, sparkling,
somewhere warm calling from beyond.

We reach our ephemeral tongues outward,
bodies floating, flowing  up, up, as if our hearts are
iron, drawn towards the pole of sky.

Space, so drenched in its indigo, we taste vapor left by the bright
bless every bud, the taste - planting seeds of pure radiance,
of consciousness, awareness; of life ever growing.

If darkness is friend and moonbows exist, then rainbows too can be born from Her too.

Do Not Congregate on the Playground (3/24/2020). -M.Weisgerber

Before they lock you in, before

all the churches reach to you (oh lovlies),

we shown - we sparkled in that midnight sun, we

fell in love with movements, and meetups, and

all the little things we.

I am a magnet to your midlife flair, a

calling card, left in a tin handed to you, by

all the kinding ones who wish us well.

Soon they will open the doors, and

the sun will still be bright, the

dogs will still wag their tales the

children will still offer their hugs.

Its love, dear babe, and

no matter how hard we try to shut it in,

it still sneaks in through the beauty of the open window.

Will still find us, even as we wander.

Life in the Time of Covid (3/23/2020). -M.Weisgerber

Madness----
Life in the Time of Covid
When the heart continues to break, it is
a watching of the high bright mountain people,
the light upon those remembered eyes,
the fact that spring is coming,
without such love to seal it.

Diseased----
Sure love, last year I was a mess,
no sunshine in the sky
No warmth upon the bed,
that we continued to share.
Yes love, I didn't know how to
love again, but you hammered it out fast and deep.

Bruised-----
Hard love, but we learned
to try again.  At least I did, caught here,
in this strange place, waiting patiently as
a storm that slowly passes, a
madness that quickly lashes, 40 strikes to the soft back
of my own skin, by which to best learn. 

Yearning----
So what is this high mountain pass,
where I wish to cast a body down?  What is,
this thicker love, infecting my veins,
draining the last drop of breath for the words I have to you.
It is a time for singing, a time of healing, love.
But all seems to fail in the time of Covid. 

A Promise Somehow Kept (3/18/2020). -M.Weisgerber

I once asked if you could make a promise 

not to leave, not to be the same distressed

always laughing lad we all can be

and have been dealing with the realization that,

that was a very selfish thing to ask.

It probably wasn't right in the long run.

So no I don't wish to keep sapping up what energy

you have and had to give

Never did,

Didn't want to cut or sting, with each word

I know that the bedrock of us all (it still calls)

That of God, but distance, life, dissertation sometimes slows

Oh how I hoped it would be worth the fight, 

but God calls us to help lift one another

Not drain or maim or ramble on.

My attempt was that to build,

Seeing you there, at your record player that last night

In which we had a type of fellowship.

You said then what you needed, I heard

Tried to lift then.  

You were bonked too.

So very tired, all of us.  

So yes, for you I can do a new promise,

To ever be here, to gab or commune.

Or stay at peace, or go away, or be that nifty neutral.  

Feel free to ask a prayer, or sobriety held,

Like yourself to listen.  

Clean now, for this, and many other days. 

Love Her Enough to Leave Her (3/15/2020). -M.Weisgerber

"I can't"
"You should"

These voices racing through my mind,
Lodged deep upon the raceways,
Carved out along the byways,
Stuck somewhere, once loved elsewhere,
everwhere

even in the very sky.

I will,
"YOU SHANT"

Words coming from far beyond a soul?

They are an awful feeling,
a glance out towards the leaving,
yet who really, honestly, do they help?


I will,
"...you cant"

A plea amongst the feeling,
A hope that we all are dreaming, and this just is
servile.

For why didn't we get lost amount the dance?
Not that between you and me, not
The one upon the mountain, or that upon the land

But that of the greater spring, that from where all power flows,
It came down the road, it jumped up upon the door,
I found it, love - its simple, warm, bold.

But even if I ink it in strong words,
I'm unsure if it will do well to remind,
Anywhere along my skin; an arm (my face),

"I wont,"
"You did,"

Now inside me these things, they live,
A bit of love, a flurry of hate,
A secret desire not to do it once again,
enough to break a soul.

"I wont,"
"You did,"

For the lines upon my arm, they grow,
The crease upon my brow, it shows,
The WorryHateFear
But what of a kind heart, what of that woman
lost amongst the dark?

This woman's heart went there too,
when eyes cast aside
It was the breaking of a very soul.


"I wont,"
"You did,"
"No, no, never - not again."

A cry inside the uber,
the one that had to take me away from you
A dot of brown, up their amongst the blue.


"I did."
"You wont."
Not for long, mayhap,
as least as high father feather falling upward,

Better now,
For now, and maybe another long while,
At least for a little while.

The Grand Tour (3/18/2020). -M.Weisgerber

Desire, oh how it calls without you!

Desire, in this strange land, the same heart 

Each beat another approach

toward the leaving.  

I had woke now without you, a hangover calling,

Europa and the world before me, oh

how to stumble to ones feet, 

Oh now to begin again.

For what was the night before?  It was, 

missing you as the couple by the bridge kissed,

It was another thick group who didn't matter,

A caring best under sodium lights to wander.

It was the wonder that the whole of dirt of

the entire world lay at/between the feet 

of you and me; an arc line now to saunter.

It was the realization that, for one more year,

We'd be deadlocked, hammers held at ready.

A steady mind needed to

survive.  

So I meandered the twisted streets of Munich, climbed

ever higher on that hill overlooking a town

Which I knew you'd love,

Which I wish you'd been there,

to see.

Oh, how the cycles come to claim us, me

the same old boy of love and compassion

cept when he needs to flee,

cept when he begins to wonder; a flicker of a question

Doing more to ruin, than any old pretzel or 

bottle could ever do.

Its the same as loving you.  

Its the same as wandering onward,

besting this heart by which to flee.  

Love in the Time of Covid (3/17/2020). -M.Weisgerber.

What is love, what is love,
what is time dear baby, in the time of di-sease?
(Better yet, what is this feeling, growing inside of me?)

Another day, and the sun still rise,
I see it from my window, the people yelling down the hall.

Prayers for the day, but questions linger on the mind

For I knew a girl, she met a man just a week ago
They hung, he with a corgi, she with a feeling deep inside

Had pulled her to me, now she got to hide,
What started as a laugh turned into a gaff,

Now they spend all week hiding, getting high.

What is love, what is time dear baby, in the time of Covid?
When a very kiss is poison on the breeze.

I met a girl, she wear a mask,
she invite me out, come get smashed.

Temptation rising, heat of the body crying
Oh, what is this feeling inside of me?

For what is love; what are days in the plague time, baby?
When a very fuck is safer than a sneeze.

God reaches out a finger, and we all can pause.
God offers a hug, and we are enthralled.

I love her now, and it seems that God has come to
love us all.

Pray with me; we'll need it (3/14/2020). -M.Weisgerber

Pray with me; we'll need it

For we both know what this is,
The day, the way, a time we each don;t need.

Debauchery tried and true

Swelling, aching - the starvation of a soul,
Of anything, anyone far away from the make of us. 

You act like its important, these things flying round our heads
I tried to explain, question that I can't come home again.

Its us, babe: its all the things we thought and always tried to be

I nursed the phone, I became addicted to the tune
the screen, the screams, the many molecules
turning, twisting, of a head that yet could be

I tried all the things I've never thought I've been

So strong now, with nothing much to gain

So tired, yet have to continue to push through the pain

I can't come home now, ever, yet, then, anyways: but what of you?

So you asked me to pray, I did not disappoint.
I fell upon my knees, and out came pop my heart,

I try to ask the same, but that organ is on the floor
You need it, it seems, to ask

A channel up to god, always

Pray when you see her.

I never prayed before our love.
Or after it was done.

For a heart is big enough, for us.
For that time that is kind enough, for us.  

The Cause Was Blood Loss (3/14/2020). -M.Weisgerber

Here's what happens love, when the gun, the rope, the very sky gets too much,
A mind comprehends, a decade worth of friends
Begins to fade.

I'm tired, love, of listening to the summer day,
Explaining to the layman, journeyman, to anyone passing by
The same tunes: why these things should matter.

They turned the water poison, love,
Shifted all the crappy things we didn't enjoy anyways,
Into something more recessed; banal?

It wasn't supposed to be this way love,
Successes of our fathers should be carrying on
The writing on the wall seeming not
to call us.

You'll cry love, sure, and hate me for what I've done
Blah blah blah - same old feeling that's defined the last few months,
But you'd be weeping anyways, at least now we'll both have

A reason.

For I'm stuck inside a new place,
Where equality reins.
Night as long as day,
tripping up
my mind,
making the cliffside,
tall, restless,
calling.

So reset, love
call upon that higher power,
drift back to the same place where you still think yourself
broken,

I didn't know love, didn't seem to try until the end,
(Forgive me friend, I got there; it mattered)
Finally got to where is, what is
real.

So go  now, throw on your sad songs, go continue all the
Crazy things that make my own trials seem
Trivial.

Like you've done so many times,
Tell yourself your lies,
Like you did from far away
Had to go get me out the way,

(something necessary at the time, I promise, its true)
Like my mind did from itself, love
The temptation of a pulse

(For its pounding away,)

The cause was,
the cause was

(Let it be still)
(Let it be real)
(let me be true)

Besides, being (3/10/2020). -M.Weisgerber

That girl, god I know that girl

Her, 19 and everything that the world is supposed to hold.

I’ll know her by the grease in her hair,

Her stupid smile that sucked me in,

And her insanely deep throat, as she laughed. 

Silk ‘kerchifs ready for loose, empty chins.

Her, her, damnit everything within her

She was my love, and is

A night so filled with stars, I can see my hand upon the backdrop

All five fingers glowing cheekily.

I hope I kissed her in that moment,

Kissed her, and told her that everything would be alright.

It was in its own way, and I set her on an incredible path

A sigh comes, along with the night

It’s a notion remembered, dislike of the bright

A lie forms, seeming easy and right

I, alone in the crowd. 

A simple sight.

Fear comes, along with the bright of day

Soft little hands that hold my embrace.

Tell me why love, and I’ll turn away

Tell me why, love, it happened this way

To a love that was strong, to a hope built on faith

A hole of mortar and love awaits,

Turn away, love, from the sound of my name

Take this chance, love, and we’ll run away

Or stay in this house, till the walls fall down. 

There Are Far Greater Things Ahead (I mean it, yea sure!) ;) -3/9/2020. -M.Weisgerber

It is why we never stop the loving, and the compassion upon our hearts.
Its why we cry without them, the ones who choose to part
Its why I couldn't stand, all the pretty, so petty things,
and will work to lift together,
the blessings, the simple moments,
that makes the heart doth sing!


(This morn, & likely oft forever more!)

The Body Of The... (3/7/2020). -M.Weisgerber

To wake upon the rise, no surprise its still the same old blithing standard care as always,
Fretting here, worrying somewhere else there all about the flat:
Its as bad as you worried, the fear scolds that you carry
the small ones to rub our faces, each and sometimes every other morn.

I cant be sure you'll read the words, just showed ya how to work your mobile yesterday,
Hands shaking, so utterly sore from that other desire to long, to pray,
Body quivering, still detoxing from beside the worst of me -
Healthy now: the best time to get rid of or discard.

So what dear babe, what such little do we still have to teach each other?
Glean as the dark shifts round, a panic often found
You, only the same strict rules, the lies to tell yourself
That you don't need cornerstones, a gentle discard of belief, of prayer
I that reckless brown freckle adding on,
Choosing all those fears we held so close?
Choosing to ask of the other way, the one that you
cant seem to process
The deliverance, not from the old enemy,
Let alone the best contained within ourselves.

So which parts fall from us, the others soon delivered?
A hug, an Italian greeting that makes me shiver?
For its plague time, and as much as I want to remain close, you still desire to choose the falter
Its alright: you never need answer the questions sissy and I doth posed
Its ok; your hands seem so small, so old now as they reach
My lies; a neck best to ring and shake and scold.

Just a test, its still all very much an exam,
That they don't tell you of, the rules, the cheats, the answers thst all are love,
I am here with so very much, aware of what all could still yet be
You hate my house, I despised the aseptic of your room,
Embracing the ignore, which is twice as very bad
As I've always been told
As the morning breaks
And still that Son still rises.

Seen There, a Face Now Worth Believing (3/3/2020).

I saw a face there, a blossoming amongst the leaves

Their tepid buds, frolicking slowly, drifting along with my heart in earnest

They pop, rise, slide, crane, all

It’s in a new hope their a hear now resides, a shadesong setting

A time of forgetting, organs oft hemorrhaging.

Benign.  Sometimes, a deft sign. 

For its a simple flight, a strong stride along old loam, and the deed is done

All along a path, occasionally leading up, somewhere.

Most of it seeming to fester.

I found a place, all of crust and black stone

Cutting feet, seeming sweet,

Up on the tall cliffs

But there remains that face there, tasting first light, hard noise

Flight, all

I continue to pause, to better glance back

As it’s a bright worth seeing,

Lost amongst the hotshade,

Growing quick amongst the long lanes, there, pennylane, anywhere;

All is strange - this blue orb sliding around a found Son. 

Day After Shatter (2/25/2015 - yes, that old). -M.Weisgerber

You were free, released this time with gentle hands

Allowed, for once, to offer the help needed to change a tune

But these same church bells are now churning,

Wind this time, in fine crippling blasts,

Where once was hot and dead and buried.

Drifts slowly.

But don’t you feel it?  The summer wisper of trees nearing?

We will hear it for you, sifting down

We are at war with ourselves,

In ships with painted sails.

Why would you paint the sails?

The dreadful machine, it must start once again

Needing human cogs by which to run, turn turn it’s gears on mortal flesh

The kind that wants to run,

The omen in the darkness,

Not this – anything else but the shattered lives,

The hardening of fists and the miscommunication of desire.

In such gasps of life, we found a second beauty, another hate

Another hate

So many larities similar, an echo to deceive

But the wind through the bark, it eases

The river stays its own course for a change

If for a little while more, down,

out, flung somewhere into the sea

Far beyond, where all things go in time

This, a haunted place, but still so beautiful.

omen.  That Woman. The way she watches her hands,

Opening, folding, hoping for someplace to rest.

Rest now, for morning comes.