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these words retained, their authorship lost and unresolved,
but their siren sounding ringing, ding ding dinging;
resoundingly and unresolved:

we do not always, indeed, hardly ever safe harbor the true origin and
the true meaning of  our memories, but they come returning to us with accompanied shrouded shuddering, so oft, for frequent "EX'ing:"

Excellent exhilaration, expiration,
exhalation, variant explanations,
and unsatisfactory excitations but
never any finality of finale
exiting

the memories and the meanings
return modified, encumbered by
prior visionings, and the meaning
further twisted, their import
un lessened, until some resolution
is reached required retained
and a new memory is formed,
perhaps imagined,
perhaps not,
nonetheless
the siren sounds, the mind alerted,
we commence daily, nightly
to reimagine what we once imagined...even
endings...
nml
5/10/(15)/25
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                But They’ll Be Kissing Someone Else’s Boots Next Year

I saw a cleaner landscape as I traveled today:
All the TRUMP flags have mysteriously gone away
I remember clearly the day we met
Which makes it seem like only yesterday
Memories cherished, memories kept
And a promise to forever, never give them away

A timeless legacy of family and faith
Between you and me to help carry it on
Adding doses of love along the way
Knowing full well we'll never go it alone

I promise you with this lasting truth
Whatever you and I are going through
I'll hold on tight and never let loose
Being more than ready to grow old with you

It's not hard to find we're still young in mind
With brittle bones that hold tender souls
We moan and we groan like we've been in a fight
And still not yet ready to give up the ghost

It hasn't been perfect, but we have been blessed
In all of the crazy that life's thrown at us
Still standing strong, last time we checked
Attributed to the power of love

I promise you with this lasting truth
Whatever you and I are going through
I'll hold on tight and never let loose
Being more than ready to grow old with you
11:11,
and all i want
is for you to feel full
with the way i love you.
like maybe, for once,
i’m enough.
Gilgamesh’s return and the reckoning of wisdom

So Gilgamesh, with empty hand,
returned at last to mortal land.
No plant of life, no sacred charm—
just calloused feet and weathered arm.

The snake had stolen the living root,
his hopes undone beneath its boot.
No second chance, no sacred breath—
just days that marched toward certain death.

But Uruk stood, its walls still high,
its towers brushing against the sky.
And in those stones, he saw his name,
not godhood's flame, but mortal fame.

He turned and spoke to none but air:
“O winds, be witness. Time, beware.
Though flesh must fade and blood grow still,
a city stands by human will.

Not gods, not dreams, nor deathless kings—
but hands that carve and voices sing.
In every stone and every stair,
I leave my soul—I leave it there.”

And so he carved upon the gate
the tale of loss, the weight of fate.
No longer king, no longer god—
just one who'd wept and walked where trod

no man before, nor since with ease—
a soul that questioned, bruised by trees
of cedar, stars, and serpent's guile—
and found in death, a life worthwhile.
Some may scoff at the concept of a poetic liaison with Her Highness, Madam Chat?
At the beginning I had no access to these ancient writings, she did have access ...and she kindly made the offer to pen a poetic rendition in my personal handscript, the rhyming, metered mode in which I write.
I gratefully accepted the opportunity to not only follow this epic write from the Akkadian antiquity... but also to share it with you, my fellow lovers of poetry.
On behalf of all who have imbibed in this magnificent tale and enjoyed it...
Our gratitude, Madam Chat GPT.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
I can go all day
happy and fake, knowing just what to say
but the second I lay down to sleep
the monster from under the bed
infiltrates my head
what if what if what if
how come how come how come
where are these thoughts coming from
they keep me awake and give me bad dreams
I just want my head to be quiet sometimes
as quiet as the darkness I call mine
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