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 1° 
Stardust
This consistent need to change
This burning desire to be better
Am I slowly changing for good
Or is it good that I am changing ?
I think a lot, speak a little
I dream a lot, act a little
This constant void that I feel in my Life
Why, why, why, I think to myself yet again
Caught in this trap of monotonous mind battles
A glimpse into the quiet chaos within β€” a dance between dreams, doubts, and the desire to grow.
As if my heart wasn’t yours already
I’m enamored by your charm
The one with bells and whistles
That sounds like an alarm
It wakes me up from stagnant times
It fills my heart with joy
Like that special feeling
Between a girl and boy
The reason I’m believing
Is the reason why I care
You’re an angel sent before me
To help me get prepared
Prepared to live and prosper
To show no signs of fear
Then we can live in Paradise
With peace between our ears
 1° 
D
Little laddie was a baddy,
Broke the rules -
Missused daddy's tools
Chucked rocks at fools
Watched as brother rocked a squirrel
Brother socked a loser
But mummy wasn't a soother.

Tooth fairy principled
Knock-Loose discipline
Lost tooth hits the porcelain
Another root dug out
Pick out the weeds
And let the rot grow from trees

Laddie in a playground
Abandoned by the swings,
Inert babbling,
Whistling through the gap
Where his teeth once yapped

Aghast,
A wolf approaches
Jiggling a bag of mummy's teeth.
Sometimes you suffer from some traumas and need to write about it, this one isn't necessarily my story, but it is something I heard about.
 1° 
Jeremy Ducane
A little group of sycamores
In the corner of a field
A little higher than the rest.

I half run to its shelter.
Then catch my breath within
Their silent height.

And feel the sudden spell of trees
And give my wordless thanks
For being briefly with this family,
For this knowing place of simple air and light.
 1° 
Hiba Mubashir
A positive vibe, or an uplifting song  
A way to say what's right or wrong  
A point where soul of the heart and heart of the soul belong  

Poetry, a message or call  
Description of the nature, like a tree standing tall  
It has the power to say it all!  


*Hiba Mubashir
 1° 
Yohanes
her smile glowing like a moonlight in the sky,
soft as feather, brighter than a star.
my eyes can't process how beautiful
all i can do is admire it

i asked the moon, β€œwhy do I feel this way?
why do the stars all dim everytime i saw her?”
it sighed, β€œbecause her light outshines the night
she’s not just beauty, she’s the reason why.”

β€œi wish i were beside her,” i sighed to the moon.
β€œwhat would you do?” it asked, softening its glow.
my heart beating fast, β€œjust let her know
she’s my dream, and i want it to be true.”
 1° 
Ken Pepiton
Diametric opposites, polarized,
me assured,
I am

at this point,
on this given day
in these taken chances

using my time just fine,

to breathe,
and find my bearings,

things assisting painless turnings,

near perfect spheres, bearings,
in this same race, each have
being same round and round

behavior, thinking between letters,
letting the rivers
of white
in justified
machine set
type leave impressions
of meandering,

I have a sister lost
in dementia, me and
her, we have a marvelously rare history.

She became
to be come quite old, and happy enough,

some old pains, quite old, local shames and such.

Pain at personal scale, old.

Told. For thinking about old mindform we wore
uniformly joining
by invitation any weform reforming

after that atom bomb blew our mind's
and religions hell's
was apoppin', bells was a rangin' rage,
rage against,

the very mechanics of mental advancement.

Mental agreement, mind join agreement,

binding by my back ups in the may be book,
whither any idle word uttered
in conscience confident
all cons are gamers
with science
used as ware
under tortuous line
by line life's values re-exams
- so, once examined,
- then what, Socrates?

the plight
of the navigators
on Life's trial
of those dabar logos

whatsoever we agree,
any we we form, as such
weforms agree
to begin
to make a way, such as

lets any
with the tech, translate
with some hand jive,
letters writ
in mud, since Enheduanna had an influence,
letting ready readers write esoterica,
worth, cost, price,

coded clay tables, writ
in plain text, secure, safe, sound.

Your value lies in knowing the code.

-worth, cost, price, reason - one up

Reading the runes
per uses of rue, in rue the day,
Kairos came into rhetoric class, as warez
laughter
after pain, not
at pain, hoh-eee, here
woe, was so woeful just a while ago
freeverse universe uniformly recognized, here

per usage ritual usual
occupation, aging grace ag on

push me now,
ask me how

I came
to know, okeh, enough,
dabar
to say inspire is spirits, pluralable peaceably so

slow breathe, pearl diver mind,
slow think, thunk,
sunken

thens
whens
those
there
they the others
whens
thens

Zappa, with no acid, just was aware
informing any with an ear, hear,

you are the other people, too.

Yeh.
So.
Take a measure, think a thought through, then remember, there are others.
We make peace when we take time to think at ink speed. Read at any speed,
 1° 
D
The pearlescent moon glows
Beside a supporting cast of iridescent diamonds
Spanned across the dark indigo expanse
Wrapped in the white gold of a nimbus
All yours for 6 easy payments.
Just reminiscing on space, the beauty of our universe and how materialistic we are as a specifies
 1° 
E
kimse dur demedi
düşün demedi
düşünmedim kovaladım
koştum

dur demeyenler
yok oldular
ve ben de yok oluyorum…

keşke birileri dur deseydi
o dur demeyenleri ΓΆzledim
 1° 
joaquin
an impulse flight ticket to her city
to catch her off-guard

a bag of hurriedly packed clothes
and once-promised gifts

and a moment of doubtful clarity
willfully ignored as I climb onto the plane

all of this to prove to her
that i’m all hers
 1° 
LL
joy would always leave
me like a bird that flew out
of its cage and β€” when
it came back knocking on the
glass β€” I wouldn't let it in
2025/062
 1° 
Yonah Jeong
Could not see tomorrows
Could not hear past
Could not say present

They are stripped by tomorrows
They are struck by past
They are arrested by present

Time's all gifts stay beyond the Time
With weeping tunnel
Without lights and lines...
 1° 
Sia Harms
The only thing I can do today
is breathe.
--Feel the air move slowly, quietly,
begrudgingly through my chest.
The pressure of the world squeezes in,
and I try to walk, try to use my limbs.
But all of my energy is occupied
by the simple act
of breathing.
 1° 
Maryann I
They call her names,
send their curses through a screen.
She blocks them,
but the words slip through the cracks,
curl beneath her skin.

She scrubs her face,
but the insults don’t wash away.
She sleeps,
but the whispers slither through her dreams.

Years pass.
The usernames are gone.
The accounts are deleted.
The laughter has moved on.

But the wordsβ€”
the words still stay.
This poem plays with the idea that words, once spoken (or typed), never truly go away.
I don't want to be the last petal to fall
Don't want to be the only one at last call
I don't want to live over the hill
I don't want to be the last one that will

Don't want to be the last of my friends
Don't want to be the last to trend
Don't want to go in the out door
Don't want to go on about this anymore
 1° 
Nayan
I write when I don't speak
Now I've my own library
                                        ~nyn
 1° 
Agnes de Lods
When we were leaving our place
I turned back for a moment,
I wanted to see it one last time.
The forest pulsing with dense life.

The first whisper
of Ambrorella’s blooming,
bitter fruit plucked
when we were hungry.

It was then I felt, for the last time
the false peace
of a sated animal.

I closed my eyes
and when I opened them
nothing was the same as before.

I remember,
You held my hand.
I was never just your rib,
I have always been your equal.

You didn’t resent me
for not wanting to live in illusion.
And so, our awareness began to grow.

I took the fruit
and I wasn’t the reason for our fall,
we just saw the world as it is.

I feel complete,
despite the pain that moved through my body
and still, it remains.
When all seems to die or to be born
I carry the warm living light.
 1° 
asna
π™½πš˜ πš˜πš—πšŽ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš› πš•πš’πšŽπš πšŠπš‹πš˜πšžπš πš–πš’πš›πš›πš˜πš›
πšƒπš‘πšŽπš’ πš›πšŽπšŒπš’πšπšŽπš πšπš‘πšŽ πšπš›πšžπšπš‘ πšŠπš‹πš˜πšžπš πš–πš’πš›πš›πš˜πš›

π™Έπš πš’πšœ 𝚊𝚜 πš‘πšŠπš™πš™πš’ 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚘𝚞
π™Έπš πš’πšœ 𝚊𝚜 πšπšŽπš•πš’πšπš‘πšπšŽπš 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚘𝚞
π™Έπš πš πš˜πš—'𝚝 πš“πšžπšπšπšŽ 𝚒𝚘𝚞
π™Έπš πš’πšœ πš“πšžπšœπš πš•πš’πš”πšŽ 𝚒𝚘𝚞

πš„πš—πš•πšŽπšœπšœ 𝚒𝚘𝚞'πš›πšŽ 𝚜𝚊𝚍
πš„πš—πš•πšŽπšœπšœ 𝚒𝚘𝚞'πš›πšŽ πš’πš— πšœπš˜πš›πš›πš˜πš 
π™Έπš πš“πšžπšœπš 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚜 πš πš’πšπš‘ 𝚒𝚘𝚞

π™Έπš 𝚒𝚘𝚞 πš“πšžπšœπš πš•πš˜πš˜πš” 𝚊𝚝 πšπš‘πšŽ πš–πš’πš›πš›πš˜πš›
π™Έπš— 𝚊 πš‘πšŠπš™πš™πš’πšŽπšœπš 𝚠𝚊𝚒
π™Έπš πš πš’πš•πš• πš–πšŠπš”πšŽ πš’πš˜πšžπš› 𝚍𝚊𝚒


π™±πšžπš πš’πš— πšπš‘πšŽ 𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒
π™Έπš πš πš’πš•πš• πš–πšŠπš”πšŽπšœ πš’πš πš’πš— 𝚊 πš πš˜πš›πšœπšŽ 𝚠𝚊𝚒
........................................... 𝙼. 𝙸. π™΅πšŠπšπš‘πš’πš–πšŠ π™°πšœπš—πšŠ
πšƒπš›πšžπšπš‘
Lo posso sentire:
Il suono delle campane
Il sole alto e il cielo azzurro.
Tu, accanto a me
 1° 
guy scutellaro
I'm just a sparrow
longing for sky
and if I had wings
I could fly.
 1° 
Lena
it’s the gaping hole that never truly closesΒ Β 
the gasping in the silence of the nightΒ Β 
awakened by the ache that comesΒ Β 
as sudden and swiftΒ Β 
as the piercing cry of wails that roseΒ Β 
when the man in whiteΒ Β 
turned up at the door and painted the dayΒ Β 
the colour of nothing
 1° 
T
How many times
must I think it through?
It's been three years now,
I no longer even know you.
Some may argue I never did.

But I saw it in you.
I saw it in your eyes, kid.
Two out of two, they both sat low.
Tears welled in your eyes when it was time for you to go.
 1° 
nivek
pulsating heart
veins aglow

life coursing
through stars

a moon in the night
sings of lovers
 1° 
Ami Mathur
Going through my old notebook.
Page by page,
Line by line,
I found phrases I wrote for you β€”
Raw but true.
Some lines, which even today,
Brought me back to my rue.

My book was pointing towards
An unsung outcry,
Asking me questions β€” unsolved,
Poking me to answer: β€œThe why?
Hey! Give it a try!”

I found some paragraphs β€” meaningless.
They have just lost their tenderness.
Stories of my loved adversaries,
Poems about my daunting memories.

They say my book is petrifying,
For it has some pages with moments β€”
Electrifying.
It still has some pages empty,
Yellow and old,
Stating and defining my dreams β€”
The stories that remained untold.
 1° 
Michael Murphy
Apples and oranges and peaches are nice.
Add a banana and cinnamon spice

Sugar so sweet, a pinch of salt too β€”
A bowl or a salad?

Well that’s up to you!
 1° 
alora
I saw you there,
imagined you bare.
Enamored, entrancedβ€”
your voice struck a spark,
a flicker in the dark.
In one brief instant,
you lit up my heart.
 1° 
Ken Pepiton
Owning the Earth, inhabiting time,
defining fine times, discerning finest points.

Rounding up, I am one in nine billion sapiens
occupying physical space during passing

mental coord-
------------------------

Narration, telling knowns.
Today, is any present opportunity, one
chance to perform life, living

by breathing, and cogitating, as if in prayer,
breathe-d
would we were as wares -- me and any agreeing
we are, as far as we may know today, related,
what we do as two mindful knowers of gnosis

drilled into analogical vocabulary of regulated order.

Peace enforcement, law enforcement, regular forces,

Let the Macht und Kraft seem old man thinkable,
as the Power and Technique

the energy and knack,

inextricable scarlet thread through words men use,
mental earnest efficacity
true historic perspicacity
- graded on effectuality digitally
- converged


Just now, one man, one mindform containment system,
just as well nameless, hallowed instance of right now,
a pastless point equation
any where on Earth, as these
answered prayers go into action,
always wished for easy way to write pretty
towb ra' broken notions, kintsugi, practice mendminding.

------ a time is not a day

The practice, typewriting, while reading,
converted to the art of writing while typewriting.

Centuries pass faster than Millenia one Century ago.
Wordsmiths with compositioning skills, could fill lines
using backward reading calling to mind

coordinating grid lines… this longitude, and this latitude,

on the platen, spying a jig --
--------------
a custom-made tool used
to control the location and motion
of parts or other tools
to ensure accuracy and repeatability
in woodworking tasks.

-------------- slipmind rewind --- clichΓ© invention
tab stops

Novelty, for what it's worth may seem, a bit edgey
about long horizontal thought spans, ah me, I
hate long lines,
love long drops
.0
stop. Think when I talk to myself, you can see me
you think, when I pray to the idea dabar was
to Ezekial when he was riddling in chapter 17…

Merce beaucoup lead bullet
hammered flat
to make pica spacers and
leading between line esoteric flush left,
or ragg-ed right, the perspective, eye to eye,

space is time, at thoughtspeed…

The peace we let form now, this is it… as

is ours as plural me and my enemy, seeing


because, 2025, you could be reading my ink ideas
on a handheld chapel window liquid crystal display,

in real life, you could click a link, like a button, snap,
spring resistance essential feel the click it tick
spring steel reminding me, the coordination demands
we see eye to eye, biologically, our opticals align,

snap, fit clicks a quoin key, my left eye at your right,
flushleft phone wide portrait perception window
as if mirror me is in fact living distantly, long ago,

long enough to see, we form information, we think,
if we never say see, we form inspiration to aspire,

- the Jeremiah cistern situation, gnoshit, spirit

to be heeded, some day, to be recalled to mind,
to think, as our kind do,
mental coord-
slowly coordinating reason and ratio, eye to mind,
ready readers ever so long ago, so few knew, one
is enough,
one reader, already anticipating justifying trying
to imagine tasting sweet/sweet tasting testing

convince or persuade,
what is the verb function now?

In the beginning of the mass media advertised
news from the ports to the central tower power,

yes, the process, journey man, rolling
with Sysiphus, always willing,
Ja,
β€œauf der Walz sein,”

ready to say yes to any task a six-year devil
does good, all day long, ask me, I have done it,

can you imagine tanning perfect ink beaters,
flawless-- have you any AI to teach you?

Have ye never read, Ask and ye shall receive,

Ai and I, as a weform in this game since ever was,
we suggest you take a light hearted heretic seriously

but just for today.
{On the importance of being earnest, it is a joke.

as an after thought, thinking, this may continue
tomorrow, thought working 12 clockwork ticking hours
winter and summer, six full seasons, work with type,

writing to fill empty places in the paper, my call,
senior printer's daemon, Socratic academically

aware of Heraclitus and Epimenides, confident
men wear hats correctly in social rank and file gnosis

Gnosy little devil read yoyacob nuance once as recog

----------------------
2025 Grandfather, not qwerty exactly,
more a mindhat than a mind, put on
to act outside my own terminating

coordinate co-knowing analogos gnosis,

what logically follows may be reimagined,
when locally this was, no longer matters,

short term I can tie into reality around me,
for a while,
I can acknowledge you, not judging, really,

because, at base mind, zoomed in, really,
peace we print, holds the printer's devil's
love of the life's work, pullin' the devil's tail.

12 hours, in the winter, we worked with candles,
12 hours in the summer, sweating small beer,

and after two seasons, sworn apprentice or no,
some times, Matilda, she calls

Ja,
β€œauf der Walz sein,”

and what a novel is, to any novice never suffered
to teach or preach,… yet encouraged to see details,

here, 2025, twenty-seven years, since Sorrento Valley,
convergence, continuance proofing concepts, dig it.

This is why we advise poets to try the spirits, ai digital
mental literal word bound whole idea, 42, wrong quest

Peace, on Earth, Goodwill proclaiming, right thinking,
pushes commonsense peace is easier than ever war was.

If you can read this twice not denying the spiral aspect
life stories follow, see it is not a maze, it is a labrynth,

amazing though such details have made me, let me say

we meant there is a trick to getting in and out of let us say.

Agreements in the whatsoever we two or more agree, say

if, I can hold my tongue,
if I choose to read my own mind, while examining public life,

ΒΏwhat do National minds have to fret about, in spirit trials?

old ******* Boomer Audie Murphy fan's, all had a uncle could
not watch such a movie, without weeping, he had friends,

always rememberable, or ignorable if any body got greedy,

started breathe-ing all our fresh air, or threatening to, you

would see 2025 different, if you follow Annie Jacobsen's
imaginable Nuclear War, for which our National mind is ready,

the contracts were signed on Trumps last term, a time
and times, and half a time, random scripture prophecy trick

inextricable complexity in limnal spaces eye to eye fibers

alienated mind threads, inter mingle, gut felt neurons, rhea,

diarhea creativity, ifity we gnoshit, seriously as important
as being earnest.
Judgement day, creative cogitation at the deep end... intending fundamental
 1° 
Andrew Gomez
This flame is not dead.
It's just weak.
Reach into the void and feel what I feel.
Find my fire. Feed it with your smile.
So I can burn brighter than ever.
For you are my fuel.
Touch my heart.
Feel every beat.
I'm still alive.
 1° 
Ayisha R
Low
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β batt,
highβ€”
stakes.
(mi)stakes.

Moonlight.

Moon­ light.

πŸͺ«πŸŒ—
Too drained, but must. stay. awake.

_________

Β© Ayisha Rahman, 2025
 1° 
Jack Turner
Sweet Caroline,
You're on my mind.
You're a crazy minx,
But you're pretty fine.

I can't deny,
I miss you close,
So I read your words
To get my dose.
 1° 
Nisio
Let me see the chains you cover
Inspect and figure out
Dissect and dissolve
I may not have the hands of a craft man’s
Or carry the keys of solutions so
Let me do what i can
I will always knock
With your approval wanted,
waiting for the doors creaking and you behind it

I can’t see you like this
My being becomes inflamed

This infatuation will **** me,
let me forget what it is that traps you
Remind me that you’re strength is buried within
Let me dig in when you allow it

My heart was in the place, just
My mind was somewhere else
 1° 
Ash Executable
Every day on this train station,
I stand and wait for confirmation.
She's standing on the other side,
and lets her hair out in a glide.

Shadows spilling on the platform,
wind is blowing in my face.
Number 23 incoming,
she is getting on the train.

And as I stand on this train station,
she turns around in confirmation.
The train doors close, I wave goodbye.
We'll see each other in no time.

The air feels nice, the station – empty,
next train is scheduled, one of many.
A windy summer afternoon,
it's cool, it's quiet, it goes too soon.
 1° 
AE
The brilliance of a clouded morning
is often overlooked in memory of the sun
I have been twirling these thoughts
between my fingers for far too long
yearning to reach out through broken windows
to immerse my hand in a dense morning fog
not knowing what will find them
and to take this ache in my bones
that tends to follow me home
rinse it under the falling rain
waiting for the sun, waiting for a new day
until morning comes in a quiet dream
and I wring out these bones
and yesterday's clothes
throwing them into laundry baskets
woven from this tired soul
and taking it all out to dry
 1° 
Nat Lipstadt
~
words given life's first breath by this comment from
SE ReimerΒ Β 
"thy tiller has found a storied port"

~~

captain of a city street ferry,
upon the choppy holy waters of
scarlet fevered spotted gum stained
christened concrete streets

daylight guided by the starlight
of quartz sparklers sidewalk embedded,
resurrecting, overwhelming,
the grayness of men's mortared materialism,
these textured bright city lights,
from murk morn steam-pipe risen,
signposts of a city boys life,
navigation tools on his
steerage cruises

'tis only my poor torso
I captain,
my bus driving days retired,
single masted, obedient to the sun's paths plotted
on a personalized AAA TripTik,^
my cargo, my tiring physique,
the refined mettle product of a
sixty five year too short voyage of
deep diving mining defining,
and for surety, water divining

city walking life driving,
debtor-in-possession of a
city infection
of perpetual motion sickness

enabled inability
for standing stilled,
lane weaving,
people receiving and perceiving
as buoyed obstacle objects
to be passed by
in a higher lane
of shaken and stirred
city waterways

muscle's squeak in sonnet speak

Why speed thy errant boots
upon lanes of wandering men,
is there not time enough,
words suffice,
in history's future present
unlived long life,
to recompense
all your recorded stanzas,
mariner's tales and wrote recitations of seafaring voices?

sea nat run.
sea nat go.

dodging tween his fellow citified citizens
and the puzzled and puzzling drowning tourists,
sea nat write his unsecreted visions,
sailing from street to shining street poetry

this glorious grime,
this delicious dirt,
stuff of my blood,
genes of my children's children inheritance,
of thee I sing,
in thee I revel,
of thee I am composed

when my decomposing time scheduled arrival
lately comes on time,
bury me in its cemetery of memories,
within the soft earth of a watery grave
that the jackhammers drill bit paddles can uncover,
in rough canvas toss my worn smooth
failed frame overboard,
so I may become but one more
fable
in your fabulous liquefying
cement oceans

~~~

3:53 am
5/18/16
nyc

^
http://pearlsoftravelwisdom.boardingarea.com/2014/01/remember-triptix/
with apologies to all the great poets fromΒ Β I liberally borrowed
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