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I woke up to a sky of grey
a hiding sun, a rainy day
clouds of hail - stormy what nots
rotund, dang and heavy drops

I said to them, be my poem.

Then the clouds of storm cleared
the golden orb appeared
a rainbow spilled color on the grass
the blossoms sang sweetly - unasked

I said to them, be my poem

To the poor man on the street
and the rag picker with bare feet
the cobbler and the fruit seller
the palmist and the fortune teller

I said to them, be my poem

To a new born and then, flesh on a pyre
the wind that whisks ashes from fire
to the fragrance of spring and the frost of cold
the stench of garbage and the scent of rose

I said to them, be my poem

I turned to love, anger and defeat
laughed with humour and cried with grief
traced the many fleeting expressions on a face
fluid movements and those without grace

I said to them, stay and be my poem

Then I paused, I looked within -inside
into my heart and into my mind
so I could meet myself and know
see and hear, feel and grow

So that one day, I too may become a poem
Repost, reworked
Depression lurks, stalks.
My woods are deep to
hide these creatures
from

You.

I have no season.

No respite.

You will never know that
my life is not well lived.

I have you to bless my
days and none to bless
my nights.

Tomorrow's go away before
they reach me.  I'm am
eternally present.

My group would scold me.
All is only eternally

present.

Irrevocably trapped in
Unforgiveness,

I sluff off your kindness
as I am tired in the mud
of my conscious
observations.

You will risk nothing
in loving  me. I am
not there.

This poem is itself
Ungrateful, under
the sun of no light.

The paradox of your
love is to me

the vehicle that will
take me to you

fully  in love.


Caroline Shank
January 21, 2024
I did not like
What I saw in this
Mirror
So I changed
Mirrors
Not all mirrors reflect truth
While we’re renaming things,
can we please rename “United States” to “AAAmerica.”
I know I’m tired of scrolling to the bottom of every pop-down country list.
And ARE we united? Really, even a little?

That awkward moment when you’re already said, “what?” three times,
and you still have no idea what the conversation is about, but you can tell,
by bouncy and eager expressions, that the topic is loaded. Never sit at the end of a table, dining halls get noisy.

Has a song ever been your safe place?
What if it keeps you warm in a storm,
by getting you up and movin’?

Oh, what about the inimitable effect of a handsome guy?
Now, I don’t engage in decorous affections,
but ‘Cute Soccer Guy’ (I’ve mentioned him before),
wakes us up, by just showing up, oh, we play it loose,
and all, but he makes all of our hearts beat a little faster.

P.S. Don’t you love the AI tool that lets us scrub others out of our pix?
.
.
A song for this:
Twiggy Twiggy by [re:jazz]
The Trouble With Boys by Little Eva
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 01/20/25:
Inimitable = something that’s impossible to copy or imitate.
It is snowing
and the snowflakes  
fall upon your shivering shoulders
melting into traces for me to kiss
 Dec 2024 Malia
Prendella Avant
I stay with the beast
Until the morn comes
When the great sun will
Lay bare his carcass
Torn by vultures
Eyes beady, glass beads in a kaleidoscope

I see its fangs
How sharp your teeth are, mister!
All the better, all the better…

Through its gaping neck
And the bullet hole in my head
I am granted a fleeting vista
Of light – its majestic stride
Wrought in dark steel

Alexander Nevsky grins
From its bottomless maw
Fire! Danger! Season!
We were destined, destined,
Destined…for,
For – greatness!
Title taken from Laibach's Vojna Poema.
 Dec 2024 Malia
Prendella Avant
Reminds me of the ****
That invaded me, as we
Are pushed down
By a low iron sky

Reminds me of the Sun
In the wheat fields, as men
Constricted every move
Hot breath foaming at the mouth

Reminds me of your clamp
Iron-tight, as wails
Came from every crevice
Between stacks of bodies

I am paper thin. Compressed,
Thinner than a hairsbreadth
Suspended in weightless space,
Fingers and rough cloth

A babe howls, far
Like wind, through alleyways...

Thunder claps - engine roars to life
My feet sank into the soil
Your face turned to me, pale
Rain will fall - I know

Run. You mouthed, but
No, I can't ever flee
Storm clouds, wheat stalks
Round, and round...

Your weight upon my body
Heavier than a dead cow
Your breath upon my ear
Whispered in exhilaration

I want to be your hero. Drunken wind
Screamed, and you breathed it out
As I saw, the raindrops rip
Through your gaunt cheeks

Clouds descend and bare their teeth
Down, into darkness and heat
Throat is parched
Air is stagnant -

Smoke, smoke, all smoke
Ash in my lungs...

Stayed there for millennia
Sheets of rain crashing down
Lay there until stars came out
On the black drapes of my eyes

Hazy, my vision becomes
Lungs, black as tar
Suffocation presses closer
Grip tightening on my throat

You sprawl beside me. Crimson sky
Hangs low. Damp soil between my toes
And the rumble of thunder, no,
Of the engine, in my ear

I flung myself at you
Across mere inches
Spots dancing in my eyes
Bellows ringing in my ears

Your face glimmers, pale
Through the murky waters
A shadow of an image
Long lost, long forgotten...

By the waving willow-tree
Turning your head around
Your lips cracked into a smile
For the very first time

I raced toward you
Freefalling, you float away
I took you by your hand
Roaring currents - I slacken

Your heartbeat, steady
Your pulse, beating
Your arms around my waist
Your lips against my cheek

The world heaves a sigh -
Empty sockets still
Leagues below the surface
Your hand within reach...

Like every last step
With all my strength
I reach for you
Your bony wrist

Like every first time
I fling you up
You float to the surface
While I sink down

Last embers die
As eyes close gently
I want to be your hero
For the very last time
My first poem about love.

Who could've known car exhaust could **** a man?
 Dec 2024 Malia
ymmiJ
Untitled
 Dec 2024 Malia
ymmiJ
peace is war
ignorance is bliss
just obey
george orwell was right
big brother controls
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