Beyond the beyond
\nis an everlasting pond.
\nAbove the above
\nis a branch that holds the dove.
\nInside the inside
\nis a mystery untied.
\nBelow the below
\nthere are things we cannot know.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Beyond the beyond is an everlasting pond. Above the above is a branch that holds the dove. Inside the inside is a mystery untied. Below the below there are things we cannot know.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[3,4],"class_list":["post-674","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poem-2","tag-poem","tag-poetry-2"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":916,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=916","url_meta":{"origin":674,"position":0},"title":"Riding With Jayne","author":"Rick Young","date":"June 21, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"Willie Mays days are here again. I traded my uncle the right to life for his extensive stencil collection. Now my art career can begin in earnest. First sign, \"No Borgnines,\" writ large above the barge below the pail cathedral. Let the thought police follow me. I haunt dead ends.\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":236,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=236","url_meta":{"origin":674,"position":1},"title":"Eternal Voyage of Landlocked Souls","author":"Rick Young","date":"December 19, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"We sail in the morning. Three flags are the warning. These crossbones are eloquent. I'm on for the ride. Small ship on a rough sea. This life is not for me. We rock on a precipice. The yaw will decide. I feel like Edgar Allen Poe. 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The ground, so hard in the winter sun, a pellet in the soft heart of a warm-breathing deer, masks death with a facade of glory, and a worm, frozen to the\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":1672,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=1672","url_meta":{"origin":674,"position":3},"title":"Yahrzeit","author":"Rick Young","date":"March 27, 2020","format":false,"excerpt":"Two years ago today, my mother died. I'm glad she did not have to see this end. When her mind fled somewhere deep inside, she still thought the world was her best friend. She remembered talking to the birds, planting flowers, dancing in the night. For this life, I don't\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":1386,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=1386","url_meta":{"origin":674,"position":4},"title":"Blue Squared","author":"Rick Young","date":"May 27, 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"The small window had a curtain made of checkered blue pajamas. Outside, in the verdant hills, there lingered packs of llamas. It might be South America, it might be Mexico. Judging by our only view, perhaps we'd never know. Day and night, from overhead, we'd hear the airplanes roar. 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