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 Jun 17 Onoma
Nick Moore
In a field
I see
A Celtic shield
  
Roots like fingers
Searching for the netherworld
Branches feeling light
Sound of songbird
Day and night

From under your shade
My mind can see
The land of faerie

A leaf under my tongue
Brings forth a song

Dance of the faerie queen
What beauty to be seen

To the aspen tree
We all bend the knee
Step 1 2 3
 Jun 16 Onoma
Whit Howland
Like good help
a smooth glide  is hard to find

that perfect pen that rolls
with  the flow

of your words and music
across the paper
More Jazz poetry.
 Jun 16 Onoma
Whit Howland
like wind
through
a creaking door

three messages
in three hours
and nothing

but cicadas
which are even worse
then crickets
 Jun 16 Onoma
Whit Howland
a sharp blade
carving

shaving
after shaving

from a gnarled wooden
stick

or is it the sound
of your gravelly singing

and the many guitars
you've  owned and played

or the feel of stubble
or the smell of cologne

I don't know

but I'll can and will say
at the risk of selfishness

is your day is
mine too

and a day
will never be enough
Happy Father's Day to my Dad who I am fortunate to still have in my life.
 Jun 16 Onoma
Traveler
I don’t pretend to be a writer
I am not hidden behind my words
I can’t complicate my expressions
I won’t embrace my lower fears

I will not be writing a book
only a handful of songs
Life is full of beautiful music
I invite you to sing along!
Traveler 🧳 Tim
 Jun 15 Onoma
Jeremy Betts
You only judge;
Or misjudge, the minimal effort you saw while my mind was gagged and bound
The many breakdowns you were a part of where no fix could be found
And the deluged of tears you hardly stuck around long enough to see hit the ground

You never asked;
About the profound effort of simply starting a day on the day priors rebound
About the countless cries that tried to break through the red tape but never found sound
Or about the tears I was told weren't allowed to form with other people around

Leaving me to question;
Can a life be built on the middle ground?
I guess the more important question is,
Do you desire to turn this thing around?
Is there any interest,
What-so-ever,
In seeing if a middle can even be found?
I'd appreciate your response but don't expect to see one come around

Fool heartedly yours,

The Crying Clown

©2024
The humans didn't stop there
though the words did
circa 2520 AD.

They harmonized love
into a seamless pattern
of expressions.

Once they realised
words were only confining them
they wove patterns of smile
and wove them into faces
(lips were almost discarded)
sewing as many expressions
of joy, sorrow, happiness
and not the least
despair and disappointment
patterns for which were hard to make
as men had all along learned to hide
the brokenness of unattainment.

Freedom from the shackles of words
became the most manifest expression
on their faces.

One pattern was never woven.

Men had since made redundant
the emotion of hatred.
 Jun 14 Onoma
Seranaea Jones
-


i think of summer solstice as
a reminder for God to let the
earth back down

it's not supposed to
stay up there forever—

that's what kids are for...




s jones
Jun 2024



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