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The heart feels different colours on different days
On days when it misses you
It sports a shade of blue
On days when it is a bit mellow
There is to it a shade of yellow
On days when it feels light
It's serene and white
On days when it's a bit mean
There's to it a shade of green
On days when it's bleeding and feels near dead
It sports the colour red
On days when in love it does lack
It's covered with a shade of black
It's never a solitary colour
Always an assortment of hues
As busy as a cat
  At a mouse convention

    As happy as a dog
     Locked in a bone factory

       As hungry as
        The winner on Survivor

          As dizzy as a pinata
           At a kids party

             As sick as
              A pie-eating contest winner

                As beautiful as
                 Your Grandmother’s smile
                               ljm
A little bit of nothing
Reaching out to nothingness -
There must be something there for me
Letters stacked in piles of gibberish.
Emotion down my cheeks but not my pen.
Where is my muse - the one I promised
To give my life and being to. She’s gone.

My fingers grasp the nothingness
And clutch it to my wounded heart
As if somehow to make it treasure.
The accolade is down the street;
And I have no way to get there.

Crippled pen and crumpled verse
Is what I have to proffer here
Who is it wants what I pour out:
Acid on the desert of my soul
Burnng wth a flame that never dies
        ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
Wipe the salty tracks away
Pick up the barren pen again
And strive to coax a butterfly
Or fawn or bunny from its depths.
Gardenias with their magic scent
Are surely locked inside somewhere.
I need to somehow set them free
And if not that, then find a way
To learn to live with what I have
And never whisper “I want more”.
                       ljm
Can't seem to find my groove.
Coming down the street I see
20 folks with masks just three
I ask them why they don’t comply
They offer me a fast black eye

They say they have a legal right
To infect anyone they might
And I should stifle what I say
Or they will send a sneeze my way

They say the bug is just a myth
Nothing they’ll be dealing with
They say they take their cue from Trump
And if he tells them, they will  jump

But til that day they won’t believe
There’s any germ they can receive
And if their Gramma catches it
It was just a bad luck hit

They’re going to a rave tonight
They know that it will be all right
The hundreds there are super cool
And no one there will be a fool.

One of that group, a guy named Weaver
Said feel me - do I have a fever
I think I maybe don’t feel well
I may have caught it - who can tell

They all laughed and walked away
To them another normal day.
I cross the street to give them space
Can’t chance them breathing in my face

I find it so mysterious
That any group could be so dumb
So selfish and oblivious
Of reckonings that soon will come. ljm
Arizona is full of reegade idiots who swear it's their constitutional right to infect all and sundry with whatever they may be carrying.  And besides, it's all a Democrat hoax anyway.
You negate and overcomplicate,
Obsessed in trivial intricacies;
At the risk of contradicting yourself,
You foolproofed your own idiocy.
You oppose in totality just for the sake of it,
And obviate the need to deliberate;
Instead of making bridges from paragraphs,
You built garrisons out of sentences.
Convinced in waging petty wars,
You run your mouth without poise;
But for all intents and purposes,
A bark is nothing but recycled noise.
Common people called him stingy
And with his funds he was.
But he was parsimonious
In areas that they never saw.

                Epitaph
True, he never spent a dime
If he could get it free.
He never wasted any time
That anyone could see.

He didn’t have much love to give
And wanted no love back
He had a certain way to live
Laid out in white and black.

He didn’t give and didn’t take.
He had no use for friends.
He died alone and that’s the way
This kind of story ends
                      ljm
The word was, of course, Parsimonious.  I  like doing these, but am having trouble keeping up  with one a day every day.  They are easy, but sorta like graffitti on a wall.  It's OK to paint them out.
If you were asked to say all the things you love...
Would you figure in that list?
...And if you did..then how long would it take for you to name yourself?
No experience in life goes to waste..Be it a good one or a bad one...You always learn something.
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