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 Jun 8 Zeno
izzn
withering smile
fractured skin
dimming moobeam
hinting
tragedies

i grab a pen
and a napkin
cut my words deep
until i bleed
poetries
basked in poetries
soak up in blood
this'd be the death of me
and it hurt me,
hurt me so good.
 Jun 8 Zeno
Thomas W Case
We talk about the
past like it's a
movie we
watched together.
You liked the
cinematography.
I didn't care for the
cruelty of the
protagonist.

We disagree on the
theme, and every
scene holds different
aspects of
symbolism for us.
I'm not sure I want
there to be a sequel,
despite the good
acting.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gn9IAYo0wZE
Here is a link to my YouTube channel, where I read poetry from my latest book, Sleep Always Calls.  It's available on Amazon.  My two other books are also available.  Seedy Town Blues and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse.
 Jun 8 Zeno
Anais Vionet
We move through the night,
though the streets seem empty,
we look left and right,
electric vehicles are stealthy.

As we exercise stepwise, sunrise happens.
and black night fades its cover.
Like phoresy, painted, pieces of heaven,
the day opens with primary colors—
reds that delight, oranges that tease
and peacocking yellows that leaven.

As the counterfeit rainbow enchants and rouses,
streetlights waver and douse,
lights flicker on in houses,
and the earth blossoms active in borrowed hues.

Morning twinkles with its particular, angular light,
as we enter the still still lobby.
They’ve already set out the coffee!
With a sip, I feel the morning's started right.
.
.
Songs for this:
Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins
Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse
 Jun 8 Zeno
Aphrodite
They say it’s wrong, this fire in my veins,
Your touch—my balm, my bliss, my chains.
We meet in shadows, hearts alight,
A kiss, a crime beneath the night.

Let gods forbid, let fate deny,
I’d burn the world to hear you sigh.
Though we must hide what others flee—
You are, and will remain, my Aphrodite
 Jun 8 Zeno
Dr Peter Lim
Not for me
the laurel
I don't qualify
at all-
simple poetry
I write only
as my muses call

masters
of the past
each at
their sublimest
that I recall

they are
the light
I'm just
the shadow
far, far away
from their poetic hall

yet, driven
by steps
large or small

up the writing wall
I must climb
my heart's desire
to fulfil
ere
my life's nightfall
 Jun 8 Zeno
Carlo C Gomez
Driven by red
riding hood,
wheels of eternity run
hot and cold
along the tracks
in her arm.

Around the bend
there are jigsaw
pieces of a puzzle,
scattered as destinations
once towns and villages,
now fodder for
the migrant beginner.

According to fable,
there's a wolf at the door,
home is no longer
a worthwhile rendezvous,
but a trap of origin.

Misery is a train ride,
a stray fantasy,
lingering in the wilderness
of her fractured mind.

She sells her gold bracelets,
for she needs
the dark coal,
she seeks
its deep freeze.

She can then
be many things
along the journey,
just never
a connection,
never a permanent signal.
I’ll cry tomorrow
Today I have things to get done
Too many errands to run
Tears can’t unload this washing machine
Regret won’t make a ***** house clean
Self-pity doesn’t get the kids fed
Falling apart won’t get them to bed
If you have something to say
Just please hold off for today
I have too much to do
To spend time worrying about you
So if it’s my heart you plan to break
Break it tomorrow
Not now, not today
I’ll cry tomorrow

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
Most of these lines came to me as a song I made up while doing laundry. I attempted to explore the juxtaposition of emotional drama and the physical reality of daily chores that plays out in life, especially for primary caregivers.
 Jun 8 Zeno
Khoisan
"It's" all in your head
nature angel's and demon's
the entire staff

have a drink or light a spliff

get my drift
cRaFt
"It's" your draft
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