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  Jul 10 Traveler
Arii
The purpose of living has always been up for debate.
It’s always been humans making use of their lives
to ponder the reasons why we’re alive at all.
It’s always about knowing
the “why” and the “how,”
in the process failing to
see the “should” and the “will.”
It’s easy for us to agree that
the world is a canvas;
malleable and flexible,
blank and waiting—yet
we’re so desperate to find an answer to our reality
that we forget that
there’s more to existing than clawing at
infertile soil and dormant seeds, more than
painting our own rain and sunshine, more than sobbing
on our knees to marble and gold.
It’s ironic when you think about it,
there’s not much more to life
than going through the motions
and yet
there’s so much more to life
than just existing. They always say
that there’s a difference between living
and existing,
but when was the last time anyone actually stopped to realise it?
“We want to know what separates us, what do others respect about us? More importantly, what do we respect about ourselves?”
The quote this poem was somewhat inspired by
  Jul 10 Traveler
Kurt Philip Behm
Jezebel
the racehorse
with wolves
she was found
To run
in the daytime
by moonlight
she howled

Her stable
was cave like
her food
freshly killed
Smart jockeys
won’t ride her
no matter
how skilled

In May
was The Derby
with roses
askew
As trainers
and grooms
stood in fear
at high noon

She had
to be victor
or hell
would arrive
With Jezebel
eating
the winner
— alive

(Rhymes From The Nursery: July, 2025)
  Jul 10 Traveler
Todd Sommerville
Sometimes it feels,
the world spins just for me.

Sunrises and sets,
appearing magically.

Night skies flickering,
Milkyway drifting by,

It's enough to bring tears to my old eyes.
This majesty of being alone,
A bit of a miracle all on its own.

On this big blue marble eight billion call home.

Some no doubt are seeing exactly what I see,
and I wonder if they feel as special as me?

Do they stare into the sky and think to themselves,
it spins just for me?

My God I hope they do!!!
  Jul 10 Traveler
Nosy
I've been burned many times in my life
From a stove, a fire,
A lighter or a match,
A candle or its wax

Even just from food—  
A drink taken too soon  
Scalded my tongue—  
Now nothing tastes the same.

My feelings, too,
Laid bare like a muscle,
Pulled from within,
Blazed,
With a flame,
That burned what couldn't last.

And the only way to teach  
That fire is hot  
Is to let someone  
Touch it,
Because will  
Can’t be stopped.

,

"I told you it was hot,
But you had to see for yourself,
Now you have that ugly mark"

You reached for the comfort—  
But it shattered like delph.
Now cold water
Is all that listens.

But no water calms the ache
Rising from the burn,
Already blooming-
On your hand.

Because wonder outweighed warning—  
You had to know the flame.
  Jul 9 Traveler
The Romantic
A *** never stirred, overheating
shows me
it’s okay to die with desires
they usually
are things we don’t need
similar to those who
carry their secrets to the grave
slowly cooking them alive as the days pass
only the heat under the ***
can relate to what your heart feels
it burns nonstop
not knowing when it is going to
stop
invoking angels
one by one?
  Jul 9 Traveler
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                         A Gold-Tone Case for Business Cards

A gold-tone case for business cards that read
“(Something) Enterprises Unlimited”
An address that included the word “Suite”
Which was only a bedroom with a folding table

A telephone number that no longer exists
Which never rang a number that no one ever called
And a dead-end @aol.com
For a business that was only a dream

Buried in a suit from the 1980s
The Men’s Store at Sears – The Classic Collection
For a business that never was
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