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Mike Acker Poems
The Crazy Woman
I met a crazy woman, not long ago. We quickly hit it off. We walked and we talked.
Throughout my life I thought I was free until recently, when I began to see the faint, shadowy lines of strings attached to me directing
The love we shared we killed in haste. The time we spent we see as waste. The son I raised is now not mine. The life we lived has spilt like wine.
Black diamonds coruscate through purple waters of flooded landscapes. Roaring, ivory horses
My Trusted Friend
In my darkest hours, when I need him most, he is always there, ready and waiting. He sits across from me with a steely, penetrating look and unblinking eye.
Crows And Other Things
They lurk in the eye of a mosquito clinging to a wall as it considers its next victim, or float in the air, like suspended drops of water liberating
Sliced, diced, shredded, chopped, fried brains, sauteed thoughts, mixed with the biting vinegar
It is chaos out of order love is a chime
It is hard when you are hard and have to be broken apart, and not flow
Charlie (November 11,2002- April 1,2079) Good evening.
Every breath I take is a labour of love, for this body, I must sustain. It seems happy, in this world. But as for me, I would like to go.
The Two-Faced Woman
I see a woman with two faces looking my way. I wonder, what she sees of me.
Tango In The Air
One cool, summer evening I turned the corner into Granville from Georgia Street, and suddenly, there was Tango music in the air.
Side by Side
My shadow, and I were born each on his side. He and I swore to be one, until we've both died.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
The Crazy Woman
I met a crazy woman,
not long ago.
We quickly hit it off.
We walked and we talked.
We hugged and
we kissed and we loved.
And all along,
I suspected she might be
just a bit less sane than me.
The things she'd say,
and the things she'd do,
all convinced me,
more and more,
that I was just
a bit saner than she.
I could never explain,
to myself or to others,
why I loved her so.
Until, one day,
I happened to glimpse
a reflection of myself.
And the look in my eyes
suddenly made me clearly see
why this crazy ...