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I Want to Gold Your Hand

Bienvenue en Août, mes amis! Incidentally, my dog’s favourite month as it’s the only once she can pronounce en francais. Or at all, now that I consider. Wolves are also big fans.

We’re going today with the most recent addition to my literary lockbox, aka the notes section of my phone. I’m still undecided as to how I feel about the entirety but there are certainly portions I consider favourable. Thank you dear beta testers and enjoy! If there are any bugs you probably left your Windows open. Ba dum tss 🙂


“Optimal Conditionsing”, Aug 1, 2020.

When the sky is divided into more layers than exotic desserts

Or gazing into its watery depths the ocean waves back

If a breeze would fill your lungs and heart with sweeping ardour

Could coalescing sparks perhaps reigniting long-frozen master’s forge

Should the earth’s heavy cool nourish ravenous conscience

And blessed precipitation vigorously scour with cleansing tears

Moment is primed to relax vehemently clenched stone fist

Release all which was forcibly implanted by exterior darkness

Forgiveness can be divine though admittedly at times insurmountable

But conquering animosity, banishing  poisonous lingering remnants will prove sufficient

Never willingly permitting acrimony’s  vile transference

And when unstoppable, prioritizing the integrity of vitality’s drawbridge

Night can never be sustained in the purifying shine of dawn’s thawing glory

So excise each blemish of warrior’s soul and lovingly patrol besieged ramparts

For only when completely free, is one palm ever capable of truly grasping another.


There is a story for this piece but having just typed it out I realized how unironically personal and worse intensely revealing said anecdote would be. Nobody needs that and it has been swiftly deleted. Gross sentimentality and deluded rationale.

I best promenade le chien before the rain lest she endlessly serenade me with reminders of the current month.

Merci beaucoup!

Sentiers Heureux et Contes Loufoques!

Somethings translate great, that does not.

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: poetry writing

Tagged as:

dReadpoetssobriety

A fractured mind held together by cellophane and some used tack.

13 replies

  1. I write every day, and your works are treasures greater than fortunes, and you have the great future in writing; because your words touches the heart *&* soul of mankind trying to modify civilization, and you bring to the world food-for-thought at the top of the food chain and the menu your bring is at the top-of the game of life!

    Liked by 1 person

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