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Lily Priest Nov 2023
Her heart could heal
the heather,
Even in the colder weather's grip -
snapping the bony, brittle twigs
And sparkling sharply on abandoned leaves -
She could find her ease
On the downy carpet of the diseased,
Gather their lost limbs
Like a forgiveness-
That warm welcome of forget.
She could rest her head,
And bloom,
Bright blossom gazing up at the moon
More often than the sun,
Her fire blazing on -
A little hearth, among the heather
Warming roots in the
Colder months.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2023
The “little” Art I Possess

~writ for, inspired by, and warmly dedicated to
Kelly Rose Saccone~

“So an artist does…They say that often when you fill your walls with art you often forget it’s there and you don't absorb its beauty, but I enjoy what little art I have everyday. Sometimes it is just the color or the passion that hits me anew when I look at them.”
KRS

<~>

long ago the new~knowledge,
“newlodge” came brewing~infusing me;
art was not capable of being possessed

my reversal~eyes opened
the senses over~fulfilling,
body sensations brimming,

for I was the container,
only in temporary possession!

the art, in whatever the day’s chameleon guise,
is the professor-possessor, I am the missionary~emissary
remaindered by-product,
just
the vassal~vessel

when to gaze upon a poem~creation of years ago,
my expected mistakes appeared, a wee pride,
largesse of satisfaction, but these are frailties,
weaknesses, human misperceptions,
human ill-delusions!

never

ever was a poem among my possessions,
it was “in-sighted” within me
what was placed in my cupboard,
stored by my sensual conduits,
mine only to covey, not to covet,

art that tempest resides in as part,
a parcel in of the entirety of your body+soul composition,
but “out for delivery,”
seeded, stored & carry~birthed, given forth,
in a completed quantity
that’s so grand,
it takes five senses to truly comprehend!

it is pieces, a child of you,
recombinant,
you the birth sac,
how could ever be assessed as merely

little?

you are better understood to be a translator,
a temp~progenitor,
taking what all of nature and human experience
has installed on your inner walls, and then dispatched,
by you, gestated and unhesitatingly dispatched,

and when gift unwrapped from the plain brown paper of
our now orphaned belly skin,
it is to be hallelujah greeted,
for you, artist, translator, poem~mother,
have done you job, hallowed and sacrosanct,
and now the renewed giant emptiness,
will soon,
needy to be refilled, and
retransmitted once more:

this is no little, limited, mean feat,
your gifting is
beyond any words that limit,
no size constrains,
no words,
neither sufficient and insufficient,
you, are in loco parentis,
you’ve take what you/we are given,
beyond sizing,
and it seizes and is seized,
until you give it away
completed

and that is the grandest art .
inseminated within you,
true artistry!




7:42am
Fri Oct 27
2023
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2023
So beautiful
now can't touch
no more.

Maybe just maybe
after the clouds
spread their black throw
up to the horizon.

And the deep singing sea
beneath it showers down
upon the beautiful rose.

The scene is all a bright show
yet mystified even more.
The finishing line is drawn
in a ring of rainbow.
Heidi Franke Sep 2023
One more before I go.
Into the wilderness of parts and dreams. A happy send off in the cool morning.

I will be back in a new form perhaps, a more rounded crown of a tree, after years of pruning.
A "wild and precious life" with untold horrors, spoken dreams, and wandering caravans of thought.

In yellow abodes loving kindness which is yours. Maybe it will seep in like a root gives to it's leaves. Traveling through twisted currents. It's fragile rose petals. Short lived. But remembered.
It's almost mid September and the Julia Child rose bush pushes out it's last rose for this year. A year of waiting, trauma, wandering untethered.
Robert Ronnow Sep 2023
On one of the myriad bays
along the Maine coast. Keep the holocaust
at bay I said to Dave because
you’ll spend all day gathering
2,000 calories and still be miserable hungry.
An undiminished population of humans is risible.

Black spruce and balsam fir,
you can eat the inner bark
in a starvation emergency.
There’s plenty of Cornus—bunchberry—
each orange pith around the stone
worth maybe a quarter calorie.

Lots of sarsparilla but the fruits
not out yet and to date I have not
savored one. Let’s see—dandelion
of course and huckleberry but
the most important source of sustenance
would be seaweed.

Learn your mushrooms! for the protein.
Accept the situation
come the apocalypse.
I struggle against my insignificance
but it would be better to struggle
against my ignorance.

Less effortlessness, more fishermanliness.
That’s the lesson of this Maine vacation
there’s a lot you can eat when in need—
the hips of roses and the pips of grasses.
And an endless supply of seaweed—
bladderwrack, dulse, kelp and thin green lettuce.
Jesibell arz Aug 2023
I used to be such a beautiful delicate Rose, now all I am is dead Rose that has been Wilting in the winds of disappointment/stress and solace.
    I used to look at myself in the mirror 🪞 and be happy with what I see, a beautiful girl with long spiral curly hair along with a nice slim figure and beautiful beautiful big brown coffee eyes. All I see now is a used to be beautiful girl that went from an 8 to a 4, her big brown eyes became smaller, her nice slim figure is thicker, and her long textured hair became nothing... Relationships, the 🌎, and people can damage you. Most importantly.. YOU can damage you. Putting others before your happiness will destroy you. Since I was a little girl I was putting people before me at all times; I wish someone would of taught me to love myself the way you're supposed.
    I used to be such a kind soul. Still am but my eyes and my glow are not as bright anymore. It has dimmed down to depression, anxiety, and introversion what makes me seem like a monster... The people I gave/give my heart to and my all to are the same people (including myself) that made me into the dead Rose I see today. I just want to see my glowing light shine nice and bright...
  🥀
     Like it used to.
Getting old dealing with things.
BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA

JISOO: I'M JISOO, I'M OKAY
ROSÉ: YA, LALISA
LALISA: AH, PARK CHAEYOUNG
JENNIE: GOOD MORNING BLINKS...........

BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA

BLACKPINK
ROSÉ
JISOO
JENNIE
LALISA

LALISA: MY NAME IS LISA, LONG LEG LISA
ROSÉ: DON'T DO VIDEO CAMERA
JENNIE: THE BABY'S OKAY
JISOO: THE BABY'S OKAY
(IMITATING JENNIE)

LALISA: IF I CAN'T MARRY JISOO,
CAN I MARRY DALCOM
(LISA READING COMMENT)
JISOO: NO, HE'S MY SON, NO NEVER.

JISOO: NOT BAD BUT NOT GOOD
JENNIE: YEAH

ROSÉ: (DRAWING)
JENNIE: TRAIN TO BUSAN
ROSÉ: 🤗
ROSÉ: (DRAWING)
LALISA: WHAT IS.......
JENNIE: WHAT IS THAT ?
JENNIE: THOR
ROSÉ: BAHJA
BLACKPINK IN YOURS AREA
Savio Fonseca Jun 2023
I need to have, a Slice of Heaven,
Whilst living My life on Earth.
Where can I find, What I keep seeking?
I'm seeking it, as I feel the Dearth.
So I plucked a few Stars, from the Sky.
Whilst the Moon stared at Me.
She kept wondering, why the Stars.
When there were Fishes, out at Sea.
I then chose to chase the Butterflies,
that were eyeing the Flowers Around.
They saw Me in My Rose Garden
and left without touching the Ground.
When will Happiness, find Me
and I get a Slice, of what I'm looking For?
I keep winning all Battles in My Life.
It's high time, I won the War.
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