sent to me, I send it onto you…
but without permission
yet cloaked in good intentions
and with tender,
put
<>
*all writ by patty m

yet magical still are queries,
the stimulation of maddening messages
zinging around the brain,
inane, maybe so,
although,
who knows what they might show?

Bizzare indeed this need to bleed
words,
Absurd?

Yet reckoning defines a day
when messaging will be titled PREY
as we're besieged by egregious things
a string of freedoms lost
and at what cost?

Write now my friend with endless scowl,
don't get mad or throw in the towel.
Scourge down deep to find the spark that
opens up our tender hearts
then like the grinch whose heart grew and grew
Your messaging will find a few,
and then some more
until we're all caroling outside your door.*

<>

“the voices in your head that stir up mayhem and scream at poets without a vision. Procrastination, overwhelming circumstance. They scream as we sleep, lines and lines of spineless crimes, that want to be written in endless rhymes. No mas, no more, I've beaten them down they're smashed on the floor. Yet who will redeem and let sunbeams beam on fate.
Poets sometimes finish what they start, and now it's clear,
we will find a fresh start in the coming new year”