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.

Trying, Being (2/28/2020). -M.Weisgerber..

Broken mind, trying to be fine

Broken lies...(but at least I'm now on time!)

Broken lines, once the day is done.

Broken home, with nowhere left to go.

Its true;

I fell across the room like you wanted me to

I say now, indubitably, inevitably, never quite the same.

Its the same as loving you, same as being tried, remaining as true

as that heartfelt squeezebox that pumps so ever on.

The promises, and the attempts:

They matter, have to matter dammit, and if you ever want your commitment,

I'd recommend doing so now.

Cuz it seems like your waiting for us, this day, to die I'm sure, I'm certain

Only ask for a simple hello, then the pausure.

Oh the endless longing.

The same as the turned pitches, in a tune.

Ah fuck, but to be your ghost then, just wandering round.

Tired, always so tired now.

Waiting for that one last sickness,

To take us to the outskirts of town.

Contrived? Surely, no,

Just a singsong of the mind, a

Slipshot sliding of the times

It is me still trying to show I care.

Me trying to keep it all together.

Me being anyone, with anything.

Anywhere then here.

Suddenly singing punk songs,

and hating all the rhythms.

Not the chords, the lyrics, the sweat, or genuine hellos, no

Just waiting on the time,

For this madness, or else the world

to end.

Back to the East (were the heart lies) - 2/28/2020. -M.Weisgerber

Whatever may befall thee, it was preordained for everlasting.

From everlasting, sure, there, out

then on to something more.

And the now conscious stars have set aside this moment for happiness, for utter joy.

(If only to keep us from being bored)

But whatever may befall thee, know how it is.

See without belief. Cheer without relief.

It is said that I am to be nothing but a cumberer of the ground.

A sound falling steady.
A breaking at the ready.

Barbara knew that whether she was late or punctual or what had been said..

Yet If the progress of humanity is to be set aside, what need for man to use his puny powers?

It is refusal is dictated by decree which it is bound by which to obey.

Something else to say.

Perhaps an occupancy of that particular corner was set aside?

For who will say that the precise number of shuffles I have given?

What it means, anyways.

Looking at Life anatomically, which is as good a way as any, to say she was predestined

to be a Shoulder.

Be this way.

Be on time.

Just to

B