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 Mar 2022 Brett
annh
dear bill,

so sweet of you
to leave behind
a paper jot
for me to find

for ev’ry breakfast
lunch and tea
gone missing since
you married me;

- however -

such wilfulness
I do condemn
each crust and crumb,
each stone and stem,

each potluck plum
purloined at night
to satisfy
your appetite;

this doctor’s wife
has had her fill
of poetry
and bitter pills,

and crumpled drafts
in juicy scrawl
appended to
the icebox door;

your words do not
a meal make
how many more
must I forsake

- meals, that is -

before your page
is fit for press
and I can sup
on more…not less

love, floss

ps dinner’s in the oven, probably
A creative writing course exercise in found poetry. Williams married Florence “Flossie” Herman in 1912 and became the town doctor in Rutherford, New Jersey. Despite the time commitment, Williams continued as a full-time doctor while writing his poetry, benefiting from the financial stability it offered.

‘I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold’
- William Carlos Williams, “This Is Just To Say”
 Mar 2022 Brett
Dolores
Light night
 Mar 2022 Brett
Dolores
Are there ever clear skies when the Moon wants to hide?
Or does she have control over the Clouds?
 Mar 2022 Brett
David Hilburn
Places never said?
Welcome and a brighter man's egg
When the coming hiss, of tenacity is a choice lead
To a favor, a stirring time and the tongue of urges, neglected?

Places never meant?
With the lovers of yearning in a thirst of light
A prayer in hands of vice, the warring kiss sent
Is the marvel of up, down and around the slice of life?

Right is the scorn of a unity, to wager in a salt's length
The passion I terrorize you with, is every kindness I can think
Of a vow to nourish, the hap and perchance of our strength
The clashing heat of compromise, is in a motion so we can drink?

Left is a spurned gift, left to a wish raging in the same
Real was my thought, to toil in the myths and legends, privilege lends...?
Of a courtesy met once, and let in the voice of call's fame
Is a relationship with an entirety of another wish, come to ends?

Portion and forces of youth, with laden kisses of what was age
In the hours until cold hands have seen, pockets of worth
Known silent or worst to delve, a lip sulking for one more day
Away from the suicide, a heart seen, become a charity in seasons we never can occur with?
Am I the only one who:

1.  Finds every write I post sent to drafts first, and requiring my           wrangling it back out onto my page in order to be seen.

2.  Encounters error 502 not only on trying to post, but on switching    from home screen to messages.

3.  Never sees  half of the comments posted without going back to    look up the write in my index and bringing it up again.  I'm thanking  people for nice things they said over a week ago.  That's not right.

4.  Who has no way to get to anyone else's page unless I see their        
name in a comment they made somewhere else, so I can click on it    and go to their page.  What happened to the index/directory we
once had.

5.  Finds my carefully arranged layout changed when posted, thus
requiring complicated editing to get it back the way I want it.

6.  Felt it necessary to stop my monthly donation to HP because of the way the site has declined, and the refusal of Eliot York to respond
to anyone's e-mails - ever.
That's my grumble for the day.  I never know it's my convoluted, wildly antagonistic, utterly demented Mac  or the site. Probably both.
 Mar 2022 Brett
Puck
naive
 Mar 2022 Brett
Puck
I threw myself into the deep. Little did I know it would scar me, climbing out.
 Mar 2022 Brett
Amanda Kay Burke
I'm nothing
A waste of time
Don't bother getting near
You want to know the truth?
More ****** up than I appear

Miserable brooder
Mistaking mess
Will simply bring you pain
Six letters provide new meaning
To expression "ball and chain"

Dwelling on you 24/7
I'm ultimately obsessed
My adoration becomes an anchor
Heavy on your chest

When having a good day
Can brighten up your sky
The majority are bad
I can't even tell you why

Never pleased with what I have
Consistently wishing for more
After I lose what's mine
I appreciate what I had before

So if feeling curious
Should look somewhere new
Walls are way too high to climb
Do not bother attempting to

You think you can change my mind
Sadly that is not so
Is safer to emotionally detach
Which is the reason I am cold as snow

My heart has broken too badly
To adequately repair
I've given so much love away
Haven't got any left to share

I hate sleeping alone every night
Long for someone to call
Can't love you the way you deserve
I can't be with you at all
 Mar 2022 Brett
Zack Ripley
Power
 Mar 2022 Brett
Zack Ripley
In a world where power is the ultimate reward, remember: you can be just as effective
with a shield as you can with a sword
He had noisy eyes
And a loud smile
With a face
That would haunt me
For quite a while

Whilst clenched in rage
His fingers, and thumbs
And hair
As bare
As a land of bombs

His heart
was not beating
And his soul
Fallen, out of his rear
Into a poo-tin

by Jemia
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