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Literature

Red Realistic Radio

In younger years, With younger ears, I listened to the AM radio. A lonely soul, Recovering from life's hard realities. 8 years old when it happened, But it never goes away. But one Christmas, I had a Radio Shack, Red Realistic, With a white tuner knob. It was music simplistic. My mother, Still young, Showed me all the sounds, Songs of the 70's, Disco and rock. I listened to them all, Eagerly awaiting the next beat, The next musical feat. All round the clock, Hiding my radio, Beneath my pillow, To avoid the wrath, Of the dreaded bedtime. Eleven years old, Fighting sleep, Those hours, The songs, The times. Gray in the mist of the past, They st

Literature

Echo

This wandering mind, Upon a sea, Of bleeding consciousness. Disconnected images, Memories, Perceived as reality. But what truly was, And what has it become? Skewed emotion, Regret, Viewed through time. Obfuscated certainties, Which are never quite certain. Within my mind, I see your face, And hear your voice, Some days I smell your perfume. Is this not real? Perhaps it isn't. But all that is evident, Is that you are still here, Even though, You are not. (c) 2021 Austin S. Belanger

Literature

Blue

Blue as the sky, The heart sought by eye, Flowers within a hand. Music behold, A love goes untold, He withholds a golden band. Never to say, The words go astray, Whenever she draws near. Blue is the day, When loves flies away, For ne'er more than his fear. (c) 2020 Austin Belanger

Literature

Revive

Revive my youth, Bring back the wonder. Remove the jaded images from my mind. Soothe the sarcasm, With rays of hope. Tear down this fortress of angry solace. Court my heart, With wooing words of revival. Renew in me, Vision to see the good among life's debris. Hold my soul, In a warm embrace. Thaw this hopelessness, That has become my norm.

Literature

Know-It-Alls

Answers are easy, They can be so damn trite. People spouting off nonsense, As if they know right. But to care is ne'er simple, Compassion is real, To bleed with the hurting, Requires another to feel. It's convenient to talk, Like you have things in hand, Putting up your facade, Speaking tenets so grand. But to see your true motives, No one need look too far, You don't seek to help anyone, You're always the star. (c) 2021 Austin S. Belanger

Literature

Meditation

Before is gone, The 'morrow ne'er sure, Now is the 'all', This moment is pure. Souls racing toward, An unsteady end, Striving our curse, Our sins to attend. Love every soul, The most basic rule, The great intentions, Of a healing fool.

Literature

Changes

There's fear in the new. A foggy obstructed view, Of worries that can come true. Instead, I took that leap, From a cliff that was quite steep. Now I work hard to get some sleep! With any risk, all can be lost. When the world's cold shoulder shows us frost. So, we hesitate and contemplate the cost. But if we maintain things "the same," We always own our blame, For those lost chances where we cry, "it's a shame." So, I chose this new frontier. And my past is in the rear. I will confront my groundless fear. Not to try, Is to decide to die. To hold your ground, Marks the final round. Push for more, while it is still today. Or be content to settle, For where you'll stay. (c) 2020 Austin Belanger

Literature

Despair

Sorrow. A visceral agony. An anguish, So vehement. Beyond emotion. Entering the physical. Profound. Relentless. Transcending boundaries of soul. Inflicting wounds, On the corporeal. Manifesting bitterness, Within the heart. Cruel suffering, With ends of nerves relaying, Injury, Without the violence, Of stroke or slash. Still, Within, These wounds are real. A smoldering deprivation. Wretched gnawing, Hollowing, To leave, Nothing but the pain behind. Ne'er ending vexation, Tormenting tender hearts, With reddened eyes, And shuddering sobs. Laughing at our bane. No matter prayers or pleas, For mercy. It cares not, For the tears, Shed within it's shadow. (c) 2020 Austin Belanger