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i bet even after all this time
that if my chest were to
ache with emptiness enough
like it used to i could go to your house
and find the outline of our bodies
on your dark blue bed sheets
i have spent the last year
both trying to run from you
and find you at the same time
but i left everything i knew
about falling in love
on that mattress and
it's still settling there
like dust and
all i can do is write about you
until it comes back to me,
or by some kind of miracle,
you decide to.
My eyes must be
from some time long ago
when the world was a bigger place.
All they strive to see
are wide fields
rustling in the breeze,
rolling hills void of tall towers
or crowded city streets.
On the horizons they imagine
there are no silhouettes of planes,
no whistles of trains,
but then I blink
and they are forced to see
this modern world
closing in on
me
Daniel Magner 2014
 Jun 2014 Joe Satkowski
Rumi
Is it your face
that adorns the garden?

Is it your fragrance
that intoxicates this garden?

Is it your spirit
that has made this brook
a river of wine?



Hundreds have looked for you
and died searching
in this garden
where you hide behind the scenes.



But this pain is not for those
who come as lovers.

You are easy to find here.

You are in the breeze
and in this river of wine.
people say silence speaks
louder than words
but tell me
how does silence balance
the e c h o
of you

it doesn't matter how much
i rearrange twenty-six letters
i still cannot bring myself
to s p e a k
let alone have the right words to say,
ironically
you never really hated the memories,
only who you shared them with
I don't understand why I shake,
I don't understand why we are the same
and yet you suffer so.
Do I cry? Is it because I am
helpless to help less?

I understand rage, quick and passionate
but this anger in my veins,
something that never fades
or dissipates with a punch
   It does not give me strength
   It makes me brittle, and makes me
   seem little.
for claudio and biz
 Jun 2014 Joe Satkowski
JM
These rooms are getting smaller
without you.
These tired bones ache in
your absence.

You are missing, from me

It's almost five a.m. and
I'm staring at the walls again,
thinking of all the women
and their parts.
Their missing parts and
the chunks they ripped
from me.

Some took more than I could give
and knowing this didn't make
the bleeding any easier.
Pushing boundaries becomes a bore;
I know how far I will go.

I saw the weathered metal chairs
on your porch, the same kind my grandmother had in her back yard,
as I drove near your house today.

I remembered our brief kiss, on those chairs. The electric shudder rippling through my entire being as your lips parted and for one sweet, fleeting moment, I felt loved.

It's five a.m. now and I'll die again today,
without you.
crystal - clean - clear - concise - cold
the juncture
the fracture
the untold stories
the harp crafted in mildew

so many things
so many many bits of things
square and curved and round things
and roads of never ending things
lots and lots and lots of things

the things would stretch
from here <
> way into the distance
to really really really
..........................................................­...................................  small things

dreams
defrosting
like tomorrow's chicken
waiting
to be cooked with love
unfold its
crispy juiciness

call me crazy
feel free
get in the queue
turn it up to 10
make yourself comfortable
gimme another shot
if there's something I do know

**we have time
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