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Niagra at Night Approach

A poem of myself (So far) (James watkins)


I was shot from a gun,

chased by time

past pig, pain portals-

beyond blood battered walls,

whetted, washed, and wondering.


My stars burning,

growing in love’s lucid light,

nursed and nurtured in stone-

flooded and flowering

in bare…

Bright dreams.



floated down driveways,

fell sweet from scented,

hidden lookout trees-

bicycles for breakfast-

mothers, brothers,

and families for free.


Secured by father,

knee deep in friends,

i ran -hair on fire-

blazed in brightness-

weekend wild-

bludgeoned by desires-

and tendered by traps

and crimes.


In storms i slew myself-

jumped solid ship into timeless sea,

filled the ancient heart longing,

healed the word wounded warrior

of the soul.


Made peace with time,

sucked fullness of day and night,

walked in smoldering suns,

swam clear deep streams-

and sang the song of songs!


Torched by bridges,

burning face first

into new dawn,

came full round the sun circle-

armed with nuclear wings-

violently flighted,

fast falling forward-

to fathom beginning and ending

of all things.


And ride the flood waters

of opening plains-

with multiplied words

of tortured kings-

resting, completed, tempered, and full-

in fallen disguise of my destiny.


James Watkins 4-2007


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Taken on January 16, 2008