Lizzie Bevis

May 22

Dr Peter Lim

I've enough of myself
silent I'll be:
no more self-talking
beyond joy or misery

Lizzie Bevis May 22

Under my breath,
steam rises slowly
from a simmering wrath
that is about to blow.
And through clenched teeth
many quiet curses seep,
as false calm on the surface
is hard to keep
so, I bide my time,
yes, okay...
I'm fine...
I'm Fine.

But behind this mask
of polite restraint,
my frustration boils,
and my patience is faint.
I am a pressure cooker
set to burst,
as passive-aggressive
pleasantries
conceal the worst
until I am truly
overcooked.

©️Lizzie Bevis

I'm sure many of us have experienced a building frustration like this...

#frustration #anger #wrath #boiling

May 21

Lawrence Hall

"I am Going to Call for a Major Investigation"

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                   “I am Going to Call for a Major Investigation…”

                             -Our Red Queen on Truth [sic] Social

In Wonderland a new oppressive conjuration -
His name is Major Investigation
Sent at our screaming queen’s instigation
To drag us all down to her police station

Beginning with Kamala, Oprah, and Bono
For somewhat disapproving of him – oh, no!
The Major will punish their laissez-majesto -
In the name of freedom their heads must go!

(But of course the irony in all this biz
Is that their heads are even larger than his)

Lizzie Bevis May 21

Scars and Blemishes

Mapped out scars
on weathered skin,
like journaled stories
etched upon the surface.
Some stay hidden,
top secret,
for your eyes only
locked up deep within.
Each blemish a memorial
to battles fought,
lost and won,
as history was written
in flesh, blood, and bone.

©️Lizzie Bevis

I began writing this poem at 02:12 because I could not sleep.
Timmy the cat and his ****** mittens somehow inspired me to write this as I tend to a scratch I fell foul to when playing with Mr wiggles (a cat toy) yesterday.

#scars #blemishes #stories #tales #memories #history

May 21

Todd Sommerville

Subtle Imperfection

She does this thing
a subtle imperfection.

She puts her hair up,
and lets it spill out
along the edges.

Framing her face in sunlight,
diffused just right,
through locks of gold.

Her eyes smile in unison
with the curve of her lips.

Her blue eyes pierce my soul.

And then she laughs,
the sweetest little laugh.

And my heart is no longer my own.

It's her subtle imperfections that make her perfect to me.

May 21

South-by-Southwest

Estuary

The tides of destination
have invaded my beloved estuary
Rising fast in deliberation
Washing away the righteousness that I once held dearly deep within

Seeking to bend the reeds of resistance
the muddy waters of disdain come rushing in

They are lunatically overpowering
Driven to dominate the spirit that I
once held sacred free of sin