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 Dec 2024 Lizzie Bevis
Mark Bell
I breathed therefore
I existed
Mostly bitter
Always twisted.
No respect
Just did kindness
No narrowness
Never blindness.
With an open mind
Always weird
This death of mine
I shall not fear.
Just a footnote
Nearly forgot
Anybody out there
Join me in me
Wooden box
Can be lonely
You know
Just a thought.
I went looking for revenge
I only found the edge
Of good and evil
Teetering on the steeple
What side will it fall?
That's anybody's call
The victorious write the history
Leaving moral a pointless remedy
The loser is always the enemy
But how often does victory,
Align with the righteous?
Glory is told despite this
The innocent pay the price
Propaganda paints it nice
So the mindless can sleep easy
But what's that mean for you and me?
Simply put we all fall in line
Regardless if yours starts or ends in a different place than mine

©2024
 Dec 2024 Lizzie Bevis
Mike Adam
This life too lazy
For fame and gain

Beneath thatch both
Legs stretch

Mind idling I take
My ease
From Ryokan
 Dec 2024 Lizzie Bevis
Nick Moore
Wondering around the
City,
A thought comes to
Mind,
Could it be you
That my eyes
Find?

Did I read you're
Poem?
Feel the emotional pain,
Then like two
Stranger's
Walk past each other
In the poring
Rain
Song
Stranger's when we meet
David Bowie
Giving up feels worse than dying.
But giving in,
Is falling, it's hurting, and crying,
at least you're trying.

Right?
At least you're trying?

Giving up feels worse than dying.
But this time,
Giving up is surviving.

Not growing, not living,
not thriving, just surviving.

Today I'm surviving.

I'm not giving in, not falling,
I'm hurting yes, and crying too.

Because today I had to give up.
Today, I gave up on you.

Giving up,
It feels like dying.

But I'll Survive.
some sounds and guttural expressions,
unique property of individual & groups,
no, won’t explicate this  
too much further
but…

anyhoo, in the realm of naked laughter ,
undisguised, unhooded,
a modest-ly hand-covered giggle,
primarly but not exclusively,
the propety of the feminine wile,
so much so, a ‘girlish giggle’ needs no
hyphenation, or hydration,
just  imagining grinning
eyes and lips, crinkling
and the ability to easy while
through one’s
nose breathing

well understood it is the
la feminine,
this witty twitty
in the provence, of women,
particularly the younger at heart
who titter with the glee
of reckless uninhibited unlimited
gig-gig-gigl-ling-ling
(N.B. young st heart is an ageless concept)

the Frenchies in their
Frenchified (1)
(alt.; frenchfried) ways
call a giggle, a puff of laughter, (2)
which sounds so modestly ladylike,
but in the US of A, a girl giggle,
a really good GG,
needs not be so demure,
and can possibly extend into a raucous cackling infectious,
yet discreet
uncontrollable belly slapping laugh,
given the kerrect circumstances

love me them GG’s
(2)

giggle: pouffer de rire

(1) see “Billy Budd,” Benjamin Britten composed the opera Billy Budd, and E.M. Forster and Eric Crozier wrote the libretto:
Good morning
Is
More than  
A wish
Or
A happiness
I have for you
Seems
An endearment
Is in order
Since we left
Each other
While
We dreamt
Greetings
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