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Lyn Senz 2 Apr 2018
an enemy
that is me
in all I see
my enemy

they'll still say hi
someone I knew
I'll wave and sigh
and wonder who
they see

not me

just a lie
just some guy
I used to be

now my enemy
is all I see

an enemy
that is me
that is you


©2018 Lyn
Lyn Senz 2 Apr 2018
by Danny Smith

The old man rises from his chair
gently cursing the ache that crept into his bones
when he wasn't looking

His slippered feet scuff the carpet
making a journey they know without him
to the window

He watches down on the cars
as they flash through the rain on an urgent journey
somewhere

Leaning forward to rest his forehead
on the cool damp pane that shields him from it all
his prison wall

The cars seem to softly merge
as fragments like a broken mirror
tease and torment

A lifetime of dreams and tomorrows
that somehow became painful yesterdays
much too fast

Squeezing his eyes tightly closed
he remembers her face and the soft scar on her cheek
a perfect imperfection

The laughter and cries of children
running to him with chocolate smeared mouths
grown now, gone now

All of them to different worlds
ones where he was afraid to travel to
out there

Plenty of time to make it through
but the nights seem to skip the sunshine days
sentenced

he shuffles back to the chair
lowering himself with limbs that can't be his
removes his slippers

Reaches for the polished shoes
years old but hardly worn and still uncreased
laces them

Moves slowly through the house
turning of lights, collecting a wallet
a pack of cigarettes, a photograph
pocketing them

The old man stands at the open door
just a fragment of someone elses memory, as he walks
into the rain


©Danny Smith
one of my favorites. it may be the only
copy on the internet. I couldn't find it.
it used to be on the 'Poemish' website
which is gone now. He had maybe only
12 poems in all that he submitted, and
they were all good, but sadly this is the
only one I decided to save. He lives/lived
in England as I remember.
Lyn Senz 2 Sep 2017
believe in ants
believe in trees
believe in plants
that please the bees
believe in chants
that ease disease
believe in rants
that seize the seas
believe in stance
that breed decrees
believe in pants
pulled past your knees
some aberrants
all kinds deceive
believe beliefs
in grief relieve
beliefs I see askance
ennui ennui
ennui


©2017 Lyn
Lyn Senz 2 Aug 2017
******* laugh like clockwork
each cackle measured
for effectiveness
and travels well
on Sunday's eve

then buckeyes pop in the road
like tiny bombs
good for slingshots
but my petty neighbors
would never allow
such insolence
so I don't bother
somehow the tree
gets away with it

then a car rolls by
with thunderous beats
why they choose
this little alleyway
is always a question

but in between
the occasional car
the occasional pop
and the occasional laugh
I occasionally enjoy


©2012 Lyn
Hi. This is just a day in the life
type of thing I wrote on my
porch years ago. I have no
animosity towards my ***
neighbors. I rarely see
or hear them anymore.
I do have my share of
lousy neighbors though.
Lyn Senz 2 Aug 2017
Brian lines the walls with dirt
from every bump from every shirt
from every trip to fetch a beer
day after day year after year

Brian wipes his glasses clean
his beady eyes behind are mean
he'll never see the filth he's caused
content inside his ***** walls


©2013 Lyn
something I wrote and kept
about someone I knew
in the early nineties
Lyn Senz 2 Aug 2017
memories get so intense
whenever I go near life's fence
and all the wrong they've done and said
stays strong they've won inside my head
dear water helps to ease the pain
from thoughts that hurt and haunt my brain
still calmness felt from delta's blast
will not erase my troubled past
so I return to serta's grip
to dull my mind with every sip
to let the poison set time free
to quiet noise inside of me
my well of blame my pail of whys
my **** my shame I authorize
my preacher whether night or day
I reach for where the lighter lay
and burn up one more cigarette
and yearn for one I can't forget
oh memories get so intense
whenever I go near life's fence


©2017 Lyn
Lyn Senz 2 Aug 2017
Death is dreadful
hides in shadows
seethes and battles
grim the night

Beth is bedful
rides in saddles
breathes and prattles
trim and tight


©2013 Lyn
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