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 Apr 2019 Jean
Lynnia
ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶰ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᶤʳʳᵒʳ
ᶤ ᶳᵉᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᶳᵒ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ
ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉᶳᶰ’ᵗ ᶳᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ
ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘᶳᵉ ᶰᵒᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵈᵒᵉᶳˑ
ᵐʸ ᶳᶤᵈᵉ ʲᵘᶳᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵉˡˡ
ʰᶤᶳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᶳ ᶤᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ
ᵃᶰᵈ ʰᵉ’ᶳ ᵗᵘʳᶰᵉᵈ ᵃᶰʸʷᵃʸ
ᶳᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒᵉᶳ ᶤᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳˀ
ʷʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ
ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉᶳᵉ ᵗʰᶤᶰ ᶳᵗʳᶤᶰᵍᶳ ʷᵉ ᶳʰᵃʳᵉˀ
ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ᴵ’ᵐ ʲᵒᵏᶤᶰᵍ
ᶤ ᵍᵘᵉᶳᶳ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉᶳ ᵗᵒᵒˑ
ᵃ ᶳᵐᶤˡᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃ ˡᶤᵉ
ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵒᵘʳ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵃᶳ ʷᵉ ᶳᶤᵍʰ
ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶤᶰ ᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ
ᵗʰᵃᵗ’ᶳ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵃᵗ’ᶳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶳᵃᵐᵉˑ
ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ’ᶳ ᶳᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᶤᵐ
ᶤ ᶜᵃᶰ’ᵗ ᶠᶤᶰᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʰᶤᵐ
ʰᵉ ʰᵃᶳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ
ᶳᵒ ʷʰʸ’ᶳ ʰᵉ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵐᵉˀ
ᵒᶰᶜᵉ ᶠᶤᵉʳʸ ᶰᶤᶜᵉ
ᶰᵒʷ ᶜᵒˡᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᶤᶜᵉ
ᶤ ᵍᵘᵉᶳᶳ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᶳᵗ ᶳᵃʷ ᵐᵉ
ᵃᶰᵈ ʰᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶤᵗ ᵗᵒᵒ
ᶤ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵈᵒ ᵗʳʸ
ᶤ ʲᵘᶳᵗ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʷʰʸ
‘ᶜᵃᵘᶳᵉ ᶤᵗ’ᶳ ᵇᶤᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ʰᶤᵐ
ᵃᶰᵈ ᶤ ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᶤ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵈʳᵒʷᶰ
ʰᵉ’ᶳ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶳᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤ ˡᵃᶜᵏ
“ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ˒ ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ”
ᵖˡᵉᵃᶳᵉ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᶤᶳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵉ
ᶤ ᵍᵘᵉᶳᶳ ᶤ’ˡˡ ʲᵘᶳᵗ ᵍᵒ⁻
The Kraken

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Below the thunders of the upper deep;
Far far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumber'd and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
 Mar 2019 Jean
Audra
A flawless image,
Voice with nothing to correct,
And practiced fingers.

Staying up too late
With only you on my mind
You make me happy.

My forbidden love
The one I will not forget—
One I never had.
Written a while ago and felt again recently
 Mar 2019 Jean
Rahama
Polysemy
 Mar 2019 Jean
Rahama
We are different
You remind me everyday
With the tone of your voice
With the actions you take
I guess your meaning of love
Is much different from mine
Polysemy wasted my time
Your love is violent
Your love brings hurt
Your love means abuse
Your love means hate

I don't want your love
Because your meaning
Is slowly becoming mine.
 Mar 2019 Jean
Warren
Suicide
 Mar 2019 Jean
Warren
To finish your own life by hand,
May seem like the right thing to do.
But to free yourself from this land,
Is to imprison those that love you.
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