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Who waters dead plants?
Me.
Who pumps air into tires with holes?
Me.
Who spits into the wind?
Me.
Who swims against the current?
Me.
Who presses the walk button at intersections?
Me.
Who clicks BBQ tongs to make sure they work?
Me.
Who hits the save button more than once?
Me.
Who kills puppies?
Kristi Noem.
 Apr 12
Francie Lynch
The eye of the hurricaine is still and lonely.
The sands on the beach are left untouched.
The church pews sit empty.
The store shelves are scant.
The pitches are quiet,
The playgrounds are empty.
The fields are burnt.
The waters are grey.
The air about is thick and acrid.
The windows are shuttered, doors are barred.
There are no moving bodies on the streets.
Cars sit idly parked.
Schools are childless.
Does this sound like the dawn of the apocolypse,
Or another four years.
 Mar 31
Francie Lynch
I know you've heard of RINOs,
Perhaps you've heard of DINOs,
Some Christians are called CINOs,
Are those men mere MINOs.
Women become WINOs
(the irony doesn't escape me thouogh)
Humans evolved to HINOs;
Friends are friends
I'll never call them  FINOs.
Avoid lovers who are LINOs,
And teachers who are TINOs.
Could a Jew be a JINO?

But make no mistake:
Terrorists are Terrorists,
Jihadists are Jihadists,
Haters are Haters,
War mongers are war mongers,
Liars lie.

It's We thePeople, PINOs.
I'm sure you couold add many of your own ___INOs. And the initial letter on many ___INOs can stand for so much more. We need more substance in our lives and less veneer.
 Mar 23
Francie Lynch
Yes, I'm the husband.
You need to treat me as such.
Like Ward Cleaver.
Don't condescend, ridicule, or find fault
In little things.
Am I to ingest this drivel
Till I technocolor burp?
I wait for a thaw or a thigh;
A small smile would register on the Richter.
In my house there are many rooms
For a Piata, a David,
But Moses has reign,
Coming down Sinai.
Thou shalt have no false gods before me.
I was a believer,
Before I did,
Before I do.
Today I am an agnostic and an atheist.
I do not believe in sanctity
Or forgiveness.
I sow what I have reaped.
 Mar 9
Francie Lynch
Lou left!

It was an unexpected cataclysm;
A rogue wave in my face;
A flapping jib in the lightning;
A broken string
As I began Yesterday.

Today, I read his life's history,
His likes and loves.
I will replace that string,
And finish the song.
Before I forget,
Before too long;
For I was his mate
In many a storm.
Lou Spizziri: 1951-2024
 Mar 3
guy scutellaro
heavy rain from a darkening sky
and buildings  fall

no one knows what will be left
running down the nowhere
where dreams die
on a metal tray
at the hospital morgue

trouser leg pushed up
the search for black ink
and a child's name
begins

perhaps the arm
the hip

the back?

and the children plead,
lie to me,
tell me,
i won't die,
today

and the silent screams
are left in an eternity of why?

foul and bitter hearts
will prevail
on both sides,
this is the poetry of death
 Feb 24
Farah
a trail of darkness
left behind

whispers of oblivion surround me
as I rummage through the shadows
to find her bows, black as the sky
it's all she left behind

will I ever find her?
will the light lead me to her?
 Feb 14
Francie Lynch
There was once a time of quietude.
If I said something;
Showed you something,
Or did something; and,
If it was warm and loving,
Interesting or whimsial,
Controversial or agreeable,
You might nod, shake your head,
Sigh,
Maybe gesture with a hand-
Yes or No or Maybe.

I'm reading.
There's too  much noise.
Some friends, many strangers,
Laughing... loudly...
Out loud;
Smiling, hugging, liking, Wowing, loving, tsking. crying...
So much emotion.
I can hear them.

Not long ago,
But mostly gone,
Like silent films
It was quiet.
LOL WOW *** :)
 Feb 14
Francie Lynch
If not this week,
Then next.
If not this year,
Then next.
              
This year.
                  Next year.
Some year.
                  Not never.

What is time? Space?
Will it matter?
 Feb 13
ThePoet
4:21am,
and I’m not sure where the hours went
Wondering if it’s worth it all,
all of the wasted time spent?
Struggling to keep myself around
Plummeting deep into the ground
The line I crossed is where I’m bound
A game of lost and never found

4:32am,
and I’m not sure when it started
Wondering if I deserve it all,
whatever left me broken hearted?
A shallow rise for a deeper low
If I swallow lies then I can’t let go
It’s always yes when it should be no
But I reminisce what I used to know

4:43am,
and I’m not sure how it ended
Wondering if I divert it all,
will I come out the other side mended?
I hide in thoughts buried in my head
Live inside the plots I made up instead
I can’t revive when I know I’m dead
And I won’t survive in the life I’ve led

4:54am,
and I’m not sure if I’m myself again
Wondering if I revert it all,
can I go back in time before it all began?
I knew it’s wrong but it felt too right
I grew so strong but I lost the fight
Intertwined with the depths of night
It’s where I find just a glimmer of light

The silence is deafening when it makes a sound

©
 Feb 6
Francie Lynch
I add one word: Let the [orange] blowt king tempt you again...
Hamlet IV, iii: "Let the blowt king tempt you again..."

The Republican Party is a living Tragedy.
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