Dying Alone In Public
Like the lonely winter tree
Outstretched branches with never any leaves
Lonely skeletons, with lonely smiles
Looking away while trying to hide
Their outstretched lonely eyes
poem by Cin Sweet Fields
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Will I Go To Bed With You
Will I?
I dunno, I might like you enough
in Chicago
enough to go to bed with you
yes, maybe Chicago in the fall
but come to think of it, sorry, no
not even in Chicago, not even in the fall
But perhaps, maybe in Vienna
yes, i'm certain of it now
Definitely in Vienna
yes, in Vienna in the spring,
I would go to bed with you
But Then
it isn't spring, we aren't in Vienna
so No
poem by Cin Sweet Fields
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Childless With Child
You, doe eyed, those lashes
Hand grabbing them up
Like a miner's gold dust
Scratched up little red car
And plastic soldier man, no arm
Maybe yesterday's casualty of war
Them all jumbled up clutched,
In your stubby sweaty little hand,
And in the other,
with a tiny might, clenching
Oreo, with trail of cookie crumblings
You, untainted child, invest well
A shiny squirming dime spent
For infinite imagination
And then it always grips me,
like a twice licked stamp-stuck
The curiousity of it, if I'd a you
Meanwhile my time
your gobbled candy
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poem by Cin Sweet Fields
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Madame Gray Sky
Hey miss pink sky,
blinking blinking, honey blinking
baby blue eyes
Hey, miss but the ice you wear
never hides it, baby honey never did
you know, that lost in your stare
but hey, maybe miss pink sky
maybe baby, you're too far gone
just too far gone to even care
Hey miss pink sky
through the years feeding, eating
one more of them nights tonite
with gin its curled up upper lip
whistling winking on the bar
to the longing weaving, crawling
through your drying heart
yet again, some fingers on your thigh
ain't nothing miss pink sky
just another, one more wound
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poem by Cin Sweet Fields
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Thanks Happenstance
I sat counting up all the blackeyes
i'd ever got
All the broken bones bloody noses
from all the battles i'd ever fought
Then I looked down at the top of my hands
With all their scars and scrapes
subway system of veins
Worn out skin from washing someone else's
greasy dish pans
And I laughed 'till I cried
cried 'till I laughed
Either way its all the same
for I was neither happy nor sad
Just thankful for all I'd ever had
And even though
I've not done much with it
I'm just thankful for the chance
So thank you God, thanks Allah
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poem by Cin Sweet Fields
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