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 Nov 24 Asher
bucketb0t
White and Red
Christmas is all about Buckethead
Wonky bucketbots loyal helping-hand
Shred gift of magical BucketheadLand

Buckethead... seasonless Santa
Metaphorically & Literally
Especially Musically
A poem dedicated to Buckethead's live concerts, and how he shares and exchanges gifts during his shows. There's no need for a special occasion, especially when it comes to his music, the most humble person I can think of.
 Nov 23 Asher
betterdays
the
slow drip
of accumulated
moisture,
sliding
from
leaf to leaf
accentuated
by clear
bell-like bird
calls

myriad
shades of
green
and brown,
glistening
in sharp
shafts
of smoking sunshine,
that shifts at
each
wind's gust

far from the sidewalk
and
rat race running
we immerse ourselves
in primitivea
trekking
along tracks
seeking nothing more
than
the next step
the next vista,
revelling in our
cavemanesque
selves

We
unwind,
leaving
ribbons of
stress to
flutter
behind us
before
they
disappear
into mist
and then
become
zephyr
breeze
breaths
Each step
lighter
unburdened
we become more
fae and less
humane...
Working
not for the
daily bread
or even
the
eating
of it
But we come
for the
presence of the green
the prior
in ourselves.
the interaction
Simple cell
recalling
simple cell
and sighing
in relief
at finding
friend.

So wr
as our
collection
of priors
find places
mordial
and gather
to worship
To release
The inner
covers
of civility
and stand
in the grace
of the green
 Nov 23 Asher
nivek
write yourself a love song-
you will be very surprised.
unlocking the door; 'the 'love key'
 Nov 23 Asher
Marcus
I’m still waiting here
In this lonely world
Will you my side share?
That my mind shan’t be so twirled
 Nov 21 Asher
Dani Just Dani
Y no estoy
diciendo
que las cosas
van a
Ir mal
entre
nosotros,
pero si
algo llegara
a pasar
me encantaria
estar para
verte crecer.
 Nov 21 Asher
Mark Bell
Mona Lisa
Eyeball pleaser
Painted by some
Artist geezer
Van Gogh sunflowers
Loads of money
If Vince was alive
He would find it funny
Constable a painter of note
Was a White van man
In an overcoat,
Ed the munch
Painted his scream
Monet and the Lillie’s
Looked so serene
All these artists
Are all now dead
There creative ghosts
Reside inside my shed
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