Umph Poem#2 remission is over and like a cancer you are back to pick dry the already rotted love from my heart — Your hugs are like pain in disguise and you should wonder about my anger; while saying, “I do hope something of myself left a postive feeling.” m.d. taylor

~~FOR THOSE WHO WAIT~~ The nerves on my inside made the hairs On my arms stand up And thoughts of holding my breath for You to come back made me crazy — I am a woman built of nothing but emotions hidden behind white teeth that are stained by hurt. My soul has been raped and I am still holding my breath and maybe that’s why the hairs on my arms are standing up again and maybe that’s why I am writing a poem to you from the

(. . . for Oriana Fallaci- she warned me/us years ago) Her mouth was a siren going off: “I think probably there is going to be a a third world war.” And I ran through war images in my mind with fear holding my every heartbeat. I knew how it felt to be a victim — Before . . . . . .. during and after the bomb, you are like a mutant dog either mad and barking at the world or hiding from it. ~ m.d.

Anniversary Again June, and suppressed feelings grow outward rising from beneath the soil half nurtured on remembrances and expectations- In Birmingham you raise different feelings changing them to an emotional attitude- there are unspoken moods hidden at the roots of this growing- in refusing to till the soil both heart and soul are betrayed I always knew weeds were capable of killing You blooming during the worst summer of my life each year survived a reminder of possibly losing you: perhaps to the welcome of a new planting in a foreign land or simply to a more interesting season- On the petals of a Daisy I file “you love me: you love me not.” Petals do not reveal the truth, poets do not bear lies about love, surprised they have become the sharecroppers of grief M.D. Taylor © All Rights Retained — 2017

Synchronicity you said, “find me; i am again, lost in this world.” how odd that when you’re lost, so am i- that the pathway back to yourself leads to me; just as the path back to myself leads to you — the former a journey unto itself- do you think…