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 Aug 2016 Jo
Commuter Poet
This day
Is someone’s first

This day
Is someone’s last

Make this day
Your day
A day of human triumph

The sun is shining brightly
Your struggle to reveal
Your unique potential
Is valiant

Bricks at the base of a building
Bear the greatest weight
Yet they stand
Strong, bold, immovable

Be the one
To bring a smile to each face

Be the one
To resolve the conflict

Be the one
To reach out

For those of us who survive
This day is precious
15th August 2016
 Aug 2016 Jo
Commuter Poet
The human heart is good
Though too often shrouded by delusion

The human heart is kind
But only serves others when the spirit is strong

The human heart is wise
Yet the mind is often too persuasive

The human heart is unlimited
Though our lifetimes are short

The human heart is unfathomable

No matter how one tries to know it
It can never be fully understood
21st August 2016
 Aug 2016 Jo
Commuter Poet
I think I will get out of bed
I think I will feed the cat
I think I will make some tea
I think I will pray

I think I will shave and take a shower
I think I will get dressed
I think I will eat a bowl of cereal
I think I will clean my teeth

I think I will stroke the kitten
And look in on my sleeping daughter
I think I will walk to the station
I think I will buy my ticket
And go to work

Maybe there I will find what I am looking for?
Maybe there I will find out who I am
Because on this particular morning, I am here,
But I am not here

I am present,
But I am not present

Even the beauty of a silent and glassy high tide
Cannot reach my heart
The person I want to be
Is somewhere else

The person I thought I would become
Is somewhere else
24th August 2016
 May 2016 Jo
Brent Kincaid
STYLING
 May 2016 Jo
Brent Kincaid
Dad and Mom both want me
To dress like they both dress.
If I don’t follow their rules
They think my life is a mess.
I understand that they don’t
Like the way I wear my hair
But, if haircuts are mentioned
In the Constitution, tell me where.

I’ll be a mullet-wearing hipster
As a dedication to yesterday
If ever a day is officially declared
Celebrating double-knit polyester.
But until that day comes, folks
I want you both to know
I don’t want to look like I am
Character from a television show.

I don’t mean to be picky here
But I have suffered the ridicule.
I was the only kid dressed up
Like a CPA in elementary school.
We’re not talking about me
Joining a gang of outlaw crooks.
I just don’t want to get beat up
Because of the way I look.

I’m not shaving ‘***** you’ in
The back of my shaved head.
Neither do I want to come
Dressed as a nerd instead.
It’s probably all about moderation
And less about modern style
But with your kind permission
I’d like to talk with you awhile.

Let’s come to some happy medium
Where you don’t think it’s a scam
That I want to enjoy my youth
And be the person I really am.
I do understand parental guidance
And am grateful that you are here.
But please let me get with the times
Before I prematurely age ten more years.
 Jan 2016 Jo
The Winter Jester
I can’t get away from the memories
Of you and me together
They hurt, why did you have to leave me
Why couldn’t you stay, you could’ve talked to me
Told me what you were feeling
Told me what you were dealing with everyday
Now I can barely make it through a day without crying
I just barely manage to not go **** everyone who hurt you
The pain keeps me from trying to get to know people I meet
I’m afraid now, worried I’ll get hurt again
I really want to make an exit from this world
But I stay to live the life you couldn’t
I stay because I made a promise to you
I’m not sure you remember the promise after all it was both ways
I do though we both said we stay for each other
We both said we wouldn’t self harm ourselves anymore
I broke the self harm part
In all fairness though I broke it after you left
After you were gone I cried myself to sleep for a year
I paid the phone bill to hear your voice
I listened to your music
I went through the photos we took together
I watched the videos we did together
I went through all of our memories
I can’t let you go but your beginning to fade out
 Jan 2016 Jo
JR Rhine
The Last Step
 Jan 2016 Jo
JR Rhine
I know you
like the last step
in a staircase:
enshrouded in darkness.

I slowly stretch a brave leg across
the unknown dimensions;
do I relieve myself
with another familiar step?

Or do I brace myself
for the cold, naked floor?
Do I leave the routine journey
to step into a world extrinsic?

What will happen if I dare be brave;
will my foot sink through the transparent tier
to tumble aimlessly through the void,
screaming curses at my misplaced courage?

I just don't know anymore;
balancing my leg in the still air--
the temptation to pirouette
shakily and ascend anxiously.

To escalate the last step,
I find to be much easier;
My strength carries me forwards
as the light receives me warmly.

But down below,
in the shadows' taunting musings,
I cannot put faces to the voices
that call me into their reckless abandon.

I know you
like the last step
in a staircase,
faceless amorphous Guile;

your voice... indelible.
 Jan 2016 Jo
JR Rhine
I'm an Artist!
 Jan 2016 Jo
JR Rhine
I watched the fan blades rip furiously
on the pale ceiling of my snug room
The ******* of silent airwaves
in auricular, circulatory fashion.

The hum of electricity burning steady
trance                                        inducing
I feel eyes wired poster boys
for a sleepless                               mind.

Thoughts and conscious dreams of
Life:
        Incessant,
                          Voracious,
                                             Alive.
Above small town fantasies:

an Artist.

I'm an artist, by God!
I don't have time to sleep!
The mind of a poet: ceaseless.
 Jan 2016 Jo
JR Rhine
Madness!
 Jan 2016 Jo
JR Rhine
madness! madness! madness!

the mad ones are madness!
the minds are destroyed by madness!
ginsberg is madness!
kerouac is madness!
shakespeare is madness!
"perhaps" is madness!
duality is madness!
dichotomy is madness!
juxtaposition is madness!
oxymoron is madness!
paradox is madness!
love is merely a madness!
and it's all in my mind--

perhaps it isn't madness,
after all.
For Frank.

— The End —