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EP Robles Mar 2020
"falling!" said the Star
"Oh wee!" sang the birds
"Despised!" cursed farmers
"By God!" screamed the children

and the rest of humanity moved along
just fine

:: 03.11.2020 ::
George Krokos Mar 2020
Only God is real, everything else is really a dream
of His creation, playing all the parts, it does seem.
What we are though He can reveal for us one day to see
as He’s the only One in the many and also eternally free.
______
From "The Quatrains" ongoing writings since the early '90's.
Dakota J Dawson Mar 2020
I am unhappy
Most likely depressed
Could be suicidal

Revealing my mind
With whiskey
Cigarettes

Empty knowledge
Corrupted genes
Ingrained endgame

Have I met
My own
Sufficient end
Steve Page Feb 2020
Each line,
each sound enters a secret combination and swings wide a door of opportunity to me who follows
And as it appoaches it's close, the line turns and holds open that door, just for a few moments, before moving on,
and if you're quick enough, if you time it right, you who follow can take the weight without the skill needed to open it, and so you say your thanks
and then you too can pause as you look back and pass the weight , the opportunity onto a someone who follows on.

And so we follow, on to the turn of the next words of revelation,
timing and attention crucial to maintaining the flow of opportunity
until every now and then a mis-step necessitates a stretch, a reach and catch of the door, giving effort to reverse the swing and maintaining the offering of access
and in return we might receive a thank you from they who follow us.
And smiling, we follow on.
Ursula K le Guin: 'I see my job as holding doors open, opening windows, but who comes in and out the doors?'
Andra Sep 2019
he was always a mystery to me.
no matter how much i thought i could observe him from afar.

i know
his style
his gestures
the way he lights up a cigarette
how he argues
how he jokes around
i know the dimple in the corner of his mouth that appears when
he smiles.

i never had the courage to even hope of being next to him.
it's strange to work with someone you admire in a way
you don't even understand.
cause it was not a "fell in love" type of feeling, but more like a weird chemical reaction that was happening
within me.

and last night
i thought i was discovering him.
that i will get to discover him.
but he only left me with more mystery.
with every thing he showed me
everything he revealed to me:
the affection
the caress
the kisses
even that birthmark,
the more mysterious he would get.

today i discovered
how much he wants to be a father
how much he wants someone
how sensitive he is.

and i know i should not be sad thinking now, alone, about what happened
but i should be happy that the moment existed.
that for a few instants,
in the intimacy that we built together
he was mine only,
he gave himself to me entirely
and let a few masks fall.

"Coffee, yes?"
well...

and now i ask you, stay!

but i'll pour another glass of waiting. this bar is never closing.
Steve Page Sep 2019
Before you take up your blade, Sharon
who do you see?
Will you be cutting to heal
or incising to free
some carefully hidden,
some up-til-now unbidden me?

When you take up your blade
and test the fresh edge
do you have an image of a me
fixed in your head?
Can you see in your mind
a kinda-me roughly out sketched?

When you make your first cut
do you have a clear vision
of what I'll reveal
have you made your decision
as you press down and carefully cleave
with loving conceiving precision?

When you lay your blade down
do you see I've appeared?
Do you know I'm complete
when the excess is cleared?
Or when you sleep do you wonder
whether there's a less of a me
maybe a more of a me
silently waiting here?
You need to see Sharon Walter's art to fully understand this.  She cuts away at images to reveal something new.  Quite remarkable.
www.londonartist1.com
samra fatima Jul 2019
I m sitting alone with guilt on my head
N regretting on my breast
I know all the people who did worst
But still I m treating them best
I m sitting here on sand
With all blood on my hands
Even I m unable to stand
I m regretting and wanna know
All answers of my heart
So I will take care of myself
I visited that place where
I spent so many years with him
Crying remembering on all the things
When he said its alright
these things doesn’t matter
I still thought will it be matter
I m sitting here in the memories of him
Thinking he’s gone for good
I am sitting here ready to die
Wishing may be I see him in the sky!!
Would I blame him that he didn’t stay ?
Or would I just look away?
-samra
Em MacKenzie Jun 2019
I broke at the shore of the ocean
but lovingly embraced the sea,
let it wash away each stain of emotion,
but got carried away and ended up drowning.
While the surf invaded my airways
and the salt brushed to my skin,
my mind flooded with memories of the sun’s rays,
unconsciously my lips found a grin.

I outstretched my arms and pried apart my fingers,
survival instinct set off alarms, but the beat in my chest lingers.
I was pushed and pulled with the current, dragged away with the tide,
my fear of aquatic lifeforms should act as a deterrent, but I decided to enjoy the ride.

Do you see the invisible strings and lines
that intertwine each life and path?
The subtle clues and the flashing signs,
the chemistry and the math.
Sharing the same air and skies,
the same language and the same view.
Similar perspective through different eyes,
different soils but it still grew.

I stood firm and unmoving on a patch of grass that wasn’t green
and I failed to remember the only thing I tried to forget.
Flashbacks and hauntings of every back that I have seen,
walking away with head held high with no regret.

And my body still aches and trembles
with all the days lost it never seemed to retain heat.
But each day gains a shimmer of the past it resembles,
and now I’m warming up except my poor circulated feet.

Do you hear the silent music and unspoken words,
that tell a long story only two or three truly know?
Drowned out by passing cars and chirps of birds,
carried away gently with the wind’s blow.
Sharing the same air and skies,
the same language and same view.
Hand on left I promise to tell lies,
because even the promise wouldn’t be true.

I saw a vision in front me that day,
I didn’t even have to block out a single shadow, I didn’t have to try.
And I smiled unknowingly, not knowing what to say,
even so the words nestled in my throat, I choked but didn’t die.

I’ll gift a map, and I’ll provide clear and written direction.
I’ll mark off each trap, and reveal the secret route to avoid detection.
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