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It's been awhile...
I wrote this about my Dad. For those of you that remember him, you'll see it right away.




Permanent Yesterday



It is easy to become lost
when your light is gone
it is hard to walk a path
that has chosen to move on.

Strong hands don't make the man
a strong heart doesn't make you weak
tears don't always mean I miss you much
but they should, I think.

Clouds can part, you see
contradicts what I believe
if only I can be forgiven
for not knowing what's been done.

The cold pursuit of happiness
finally has worn me thin.
To dwell or to solve my troubles?
Where shall I begin?

I might make it to you tomarrow
I need to find a way
but without some needed solitude
It'll be permanent yesterday.


f a d e . . .
posted by fade...
--- posted on Aug 25, 2004 at 11:09pm est --- post #000054 ---


I passed the tree
that reminds me of you
where I tried to defend you from tiny ants
and big internal demons

I passed the table
piled high with paper
where I kissed you after breakfast
the thinking it keeps me afloat

I passed the past
well into the future
there are no suitable moments to live in
now I look ahead and look back and ahead oncemore

I will pass the time
building castles in the dry sand
taking water when it comes
grateful to the ocean you were and will be

posted by AMPro
--- posted on Jul 21, 2004 at 1:49am est --- post #000053 ---


MetaUphoria
MetaUphoria
by Alex Feb.15.2004

As I move through this world I am a Battle Axe for peace
an imprecise tool to be sure, but I get the job done

And I am love with a woman who is a chamomile petal
Delicate, unassuming and with the unexpected power to soothe and calm

I move though this world, a laser for justice
Focused, refocused, remodulated and recalibrated
Analizing and disecting our way to altruism

And my love is a tempest
a completely unpredictable storm
fanning the passion fires that fuel our fight

posted by AMPro
--- posted on Feb 15, 2004 at 1:31pm est --- post #000052 ---


Touch Artistry

Touch Artistry
Apr.02.2003

I know an artist of touch
she loves
through her fingertips
a brush of her lips

I love an artist of touch
new expressions are out there
don't shut down a good thing
just because you don't know what tommrow will bring

I've touched an artist of love
with love
Influencing art
Helping creation with another new start

I've feared the love in a touch
There's no safety there just beauty
But then I take one deep breath, two, three
And let it guide me to where I need to be

I've touched the fear of love
Lived in it, trapped in it, escaped from it
Learned to move through it, and still learning so much
Ever grateful to the artist of touch
posted by AMPro
--- posted on Apr 2, 2003 at 3:43pm est --- post #000051 ---


more crap
What can we tell each other
after our stories have been told
and we have wept with naked hearts,
through the dark nights of our soul?

the story of our lives,
woven together with common threads
frustration, violence, hatred, helplessness,
knotted off with strands of empowerment,
understanding, acceptance and rage.

How could they have done this to you?
I ask as I see your fingers tremble
as I see the tears gather behind your eyes.
you wonder the same about me.

And through each tale,
through each shared story,
we cry at the injustices
visited upon others who are not
so very different from what we are.

posted by Prynne - livejournal.com
--- posted on Feb 9, 2003 at 4:12pm est --- post #000050 ---


Phoenix Song
How does a woman rise from the dead
When the loss has already been mourned and grieved
When the present has become so safe and familiar
When life as it once was is now just a dream?

How many deaths in how many lifetimes
How many souls to be reborn in my own
How many depths can a woman crawl into
to hide in, to run to, to escape the unknown?

How does a woman rise from the dead
When returning brings hatred and scorn and a plea
When too much is lost, and only memories are found
When she is trapped in another that is becoming me?

How many deaths in how many lifetimes
How many souls to be reborn in my own
How long to look at the life I am living
To suffer the fruits of the seeds I have sown?

posted by Prynne/Kiera - livejournal.com
--- posted on Feb 9, 2003 at 11:29am est --- post #000049 ---


Wastelands of Hope
we sat watching the flaming ball
as it lit night like fireworks
someday to return, plans echoed
those of us left pondered the scene
memories of ocean sunsets
eagles soaring high in the air
music of the forest soundscapes
sky portraits created by clouds
familiar stars yet different
from those that filled nights long ago
will they be seen again in life
perhaps, we think, we hope, we watch
we say, next time will be better
the same mistakes not made again
to return what we have taken
from the resources that nurture
we will learn acceptance of all
not to destroy dreams of others
inspiring us to succeed
upon these wastelands before us
we plant the seed of hope to grow

1-5-2003

*this was from a poetry challenge I found on a message board... writing about the earth after it's destruction by mankind...
posted by Unykornz - Unykornz Haven
--- posted on Jan 9, 2003 at 4:50pm est --- post #000048 ---


thanks

thanks.

posted by AMPro
--- posted on Jan 6, 2003 at 3:20pm est --- post #000047 ---


Buying
Hey Amps.. If you ever publish a book of poems, put me at the top of the buyer list!

Your friend always
Trubble
posted by Trubble
--- posted on Jan 2, 2003 at 11:04pm est --- post #000046 ---


Open For Business.
Open For Business
A.M.
Jan 2003

I open myself up to the pain
again and again and again and again
I raise my face up into the stinging rain
there's something that they say about pain and gain

I was raised to have this faith
A faith in people too strong to shake
Whatever of mine people see fit to break
I doesn't much sway me from the path I take

I love people till they show me I don't
Some people get jaded but I know that I won't
No matter how hard that might make it to cope
I can't look at folks and think that there's no hope

I open myself up to the pain
again and again and again and again
I'm still open for business in the pooring rain
If I seek joy and find pain that's still how I'll remain

posted by AMPro
--- posted on Jan 2, 2003 at 9:40am est --- post #000045 ---


exploring

I wonder how to reconcile your being with your smile with my mind tunring around and around and meandering through uncharted, untouched not for the faint-hearted types of regions with legions of dangerous sensations and all kinds of complications around every bend but in the end I have to breathe deep and go forth, be deep and head north since no other option ever could be as good as when its good or even as good as when it it's not so this seems the only course to plot and there's rocks up ahead but ever since you said 'How is that book' I've been betook and finite or no that's just how it goes.

posted by AMPro
--- posted on Dec 27, 2002 at 11:06pm est --- post #000044 ---


Eyes

I followed my bliss
I kissed the tender lips of peace
I broke down inner ramparts
and faded into you for release

I shut tight my eyes
I flew all around
I found hopeless to hope
before I returned to the ground

I watched as you slept
I guarded your health
I knocked everything over
and injured myself

I listened, I realized
I teased, apologized
I watched the tide roll out
All in your eyes
posted by AMPro
--- posted on Dec 16, 2002 at 10:42am est --- post #000043 ---


Dedicated to Alex Mead
December 5, 2002

Sitting beside you,
On the road to Freedom,
Talking so easily,
On the way to Peace.

I laid my head on your shoulder,
On the road to Freedom,
I so wanted to kiss you,
On the way to Peace.

We exchanged our lives,
On the road to Freedom,
We exchanged our hearts,
On the way to Peace.

There were some rocky places,
On the road to Freedom,
There were some crazy emotions,
On the way to Peace.

But I know there is hope,
On the road to Freedom,
And we'll both find our dreams,
On the way to Peace.

And though our paths will part,
On the road to Freedom,
We'll always be together,
On the way to Peace.

posted by feyler
--- posted on Dec 6, 2002 at 10:17pm est --- post #000042 ---


Candle in the Sand

Candle in the Sand
Alex Mead
Dec. 2002


I found a Candle in the Sand
With a Gentle Glowing Flame
I stared into it and was Rapt by the Light
It led to Infinity and it made me Smile
A breeze urged the Flame to Flicker
The Bright Beam of light did Waver
I Became Afraid of life in Darkness
I Became Afraid of a life of staring
I tried with all my might to Throw the Candle to the Ocean
I turned to walk away I found a Candle in the Sand
With a Gentle Glowing Flame
I stared into it and was Rapt by the Light

posted by AMPro
--- posted on Dec 6, 2002 at 8:59pm est --- post #000041 ---


Reading me
GOD! I hate when you do that. You have always been able to read me like a book. I needed that though. Do you think if I say it 100 times over and over it will work


Trubble
posted by trubble
--- posted on Nov 25, 2002 at 9:35pm est --- post #000040 ---


Just go ta bed

Don't wanna think
try not to sink
every little blink
leads me to the brink

Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man

don't breathe
don't move
don't try
can't lose

Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man

Make it all stop
No.
Make it all go
no

Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man
Just go ta bed man


posted by AMPro
--- posted on Nov 23, 2002 at 11:04am est --- post #000039 ---


In the corner of my mind.
Thanks for the memories.



I had a sneaking suspicion the culprit was a power tool.

As for "Heart for Sale," I think it was Kiera. But I'm usually wrong.

You really should write more, man. Everyone here should.
posted by Fairow
--- posted on May 15, 2002 at 12:05am est --- post #000038 ---


David, and related works & correspondence
Ok, this really isn't a poem, but a little something I wrote that elicited a lot of interesting (to me) responses. I've had it buried on a backup CD for quite a long time, but here we go-- What follows is my original sort of intro thingy, the actual little piece I wrote, and then the responses I received from the BBSing community. Made me feel pretty cool about myself, I'll tell you what. :)

----------------------------------------

The following isn't really that much of a poem or anything, it's just a
bunch of thoughts that I really had to write down-- I just went to the
wake of my father's best friend's son.. He kinda decided to jump off a
bridge... I hope no one is disturbed by it or whatever, and I just want
you to realize that I mean no disrespect to anyone and I'm sure if the
mystery's ever solved, there's some weird logical explanation as to why...
Even though I am totally against suicide, but I digress.
Anyways, I won't be surprised if one or two people get mad at me or
something and have a heated debate on the topic or whatever. I didn't
really know him that well, or even see him except when my dad and his dad
were hangin' out, but I did know him and that's enough for me.



David

As you fell, what flashed before your eyes...? What did you think about
in the mere second you had? Nobody will truly know.

Was it a release from some torment? An ending to a drawn-out drama?
Did you smile as the ground rushed up to meet you, as the blackness
overwhelmed you? Glad to be free of life and its many burdens? Did you
escape from what pained you so?

Had you thought you would get another chance? Did you think maybe you could
avoid all these problems "next time"?

Were you simply tired of life, having squeezed everything out of it that you
could? Did you experience everything possible? Did you share it all with
another person? Did you become bored with mere life? Were you happy to end
it all, just like that-- without even saying goodbye? Did you think to
yourself, "This is great!"

Could you have truly said that you had done everything in the entire
universe and suicide was the only thing left to do because you never died
before? Were there that many things about the world that you hated and
loathed and needed to get away from?

Were you truly at peace? Or was there a nagging thought, there, in the back
of your mind-- Were you filled with utter regret? Had you realized what
you had done? Did your mind fill with panic as you changed your mind too
late? Did you, in the last split second before you hit the ground, realize
the finality of what you had done? Did you suddenly come up with an
alternative? A way of working it out? Did you think to talk to the ones
who cared about you?

Did you realize that your body was not the only thing the life had gone out
of-- That same life was gone from many places you would never have wanted to
hurt.

Your father's eyes. Your brother's smile. Your friends' laughter.

All empty.

They can never be the same. Did they really deserve it, or were you so
overwhelmed with feelings of despair that you were thinking only of
yourself?

Did you realize it may not have been worth it?
----------------------------------------------

1/3......... about your post...
Name........ <removed by Chainsaw just now>
Date........ Thu Nov 02 00:08:33 1995
From........ IceNet - Starpoint Technology Station [716-826-6072]
Location.... Western, New York

Reference To: Here... I wrote this a few days ago. enjoy. :)
ON: The Bard Octavian's Tales (Short Stories

ah..this is regards to your post on Octavians sub for short stories..

i must say i liked what you had to say..it was truly a work of art and it
opened my eyes to things i once could not see. you shall never truly know how
much what you had to say had an effect on me. you have in essence saved my
life..i am forever in your debt.


thank you again..


respectfully,


<name removed by Chainsaw just now>

3/3......... Whoa...
Name........ Katster #159 @9664
Date........ Fri Nov 03 18:13:12 1995
From........ IceNet - The Red Ribbon BBS [916-223-3358]
Location.... Northeast California

RE: Here... I wrote this a few days ago. enjoy. :)
ON: THE BARD OCTAVIAN'S TALES

Those thoughts (as you put it) are some of the most powerful that I have ever
read...Keep up the good work...

From one poet to another:



Katster

Date........ Mon Nov 06 16:09:49 1995
From........ IceNet - Starpoint Technology Station [716-826-6072]
Location.... Western, New York

Reference To: Re: about your post...

alas you are not over stepping your bounds..i believe if you look for my posts
in the same sub as yours can be found you shall find the answer to your
question....any more questions? feel free to ask away..

i thank you for your offer to help..i may one day take you up on the offer.

in regards to being ok now..well i take everyday one step at a time and
although some are harder i do my best hang on. your post did however appear at
a particually crucial time for me andi thank you greatly for sharing it. you
could say you brought me back to earth and i can never thank you enough for
that.

thank you again..and yes ..you really did save me..

respectfully and forever in your debt,
<removed by Chainsaw just now>

Chainsaw note - This was posted shortly after mine, I like to think that it was sorta written for me. Partially, anyway. C'mon. Let my have my fantasy.)

82/100...... in recognition of strength... =)
Name........ <removed by Chainsaw just now>
Date........ Fri Nov 17 19:06:38 1995
From........ IceNet - The Heat Wave [716-823-0424]
Location.... Western, New York

this is dedicated to someone who gave me the strength to realize that i have
the strength for all my own..i thank you greatly..more than you will ever
know..you know who i'm talking to.


Persistence
-----------

Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence

Talent will not;
Nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.

Genius will not;
Unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.

Education will not;
The world is full of educated derelicts.

Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.


thank you again and you know who you are.


<name removed by Chainsaw just now>
97/100...... more posts??
Name........ <name removed by Chainsaw just now>
Date........ Sat Nov 18 18:57:27 1995
From........ IceNet - Starpoint Technology Station [716-826-6072]
Location.... Western, New York

i thank you all for saying i that i write well..i have more to post but dont
you think i should lkeave room for the others? i have seen many talented
writers here and yet they are not commended as frequently as others seem to
be...to name a few i wish to commend (from the top of my head) :

Kier - excellent work! keep it up!

Octavian - you have a talent others only dream of..you have my envy.

Godmother - you may never know just how affected i have been by your
work.

...and many others that slip my mind at the moment..you all have great talent
and i am grateful for the pieces you all share. everything that you all post i
have read and taken into my heart, many of you have changed or shaped my life
in many ways..more than any of you can ever know.

...and Chainsaw..i will always owe you more than just a commondation..i owe
you my life..you will always be remembered in my heart, and always will be
part of my soul..

i thank you all yet again for your kind words to me. i will post more of my
work, but everyone should remember that others like to hear feedback too. when
you read something you like or something that strikes a chord in you..please,
i ask you, let the author know. it really does mean alot and it does wonders
for the soul...

Love to all of you..
<name removed by Chainsaw just now>

--------------------------------------------------
posted by Chainsaw
--- posted on May 14, 2002 at 10:57pm est --- post #000037 ---


Pain Coat
Pain Coat (~1993~1995?)

I wear my pain-coat inside-out,
it looks better that way.
People think it's warm and soft and happy every day.
I wear my pain-coat inside-out,
I live my life a lie.
I don't want anyone to see when I sit here and cry.
I wear my pain-coat inside-out,
it hides the way I hurt;
but best of all it hides all of the teardrops on my shirt.
I wear my pain-coat inside-out
and weep, because the outside-in
is rubbing, chafing, digging, scratching, deep into my skin.
posted by Chainsaw
--- posted on May 14, 2002 at 10:36pm est --- post #000036 ---


A rhyming reply
'Twas I who wrote the Pain Coat poem,
when I was but a lad;
I can't quite recall why I was
so angst-ridden and sad.

That poem's my favorite that I wrote,
of expansive and tiny;
I wish I could remember why
I was so freakin' whiny.

Was it chicks? Or bullies nasty?
Was puberty to blame?
I suppose that I shall never learn
why I was so damn lame.

Agonize over petty problems?
Why do myself this crime?
I suppose it's that it might have seemed
important at the time.

On this I shall not dwell too long,
because of what I've found:
I cannot go back into time
and smack myself around.

But anyway, I do digress;
I'll post that poem for you.
And another one, about this kid--
who killed himself--I knew.

posted by Chainsaw
--- posted on May 14, 2002 at 4:40pm est --- post #000035 ---



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