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boy,
jealous boy,
i'm crazy in love
with you,

if i tremble like a
a february leaf,
gold and brown
on the black branched
beech hedge,
where the snow's
fragile kiss melts
the night into
whispers,

and the wind,
wild with its
northern chill,
flutters those
leaves, blanched
like our love-starved
lips of
colour,

beneath a sky
of midnight's sea,

then i would melt,
like this sky
of midnight's sea,

crazy in love,
with my boy
of grey clouds,

who sweeps the
crying sea, with
strange whispering,

who kisses me so
beautifully in his arms

that i sigh and cry and die
for his love,

boy,
jealous boy,
i'm crazy for
your love,

like a star
glistening in the deepening
night where the
nightingale sings
and the grey clouds
drift forever in their
stream-like dream.
 Mar 2017 Bob B
wordvango
again
 Mar 2017 Bob B
wordvango
you always had the knack the inspiration
the right karma
never had to ask for permission
just did what you liked
saw your fire burning bright
your talent as a guiding light
then you came crashing down to reality
saw ten million other
stars as bright
and you had that breakdown
took you seems
a thousand years
a long walk through
the fields you missed growing up
to gain that courage again
to try
to make your destiny live
make a place
in this cruel world again
but you perservered
and life is now
your playground
again
 Mar 2017 Bob B
Mike Hauser
From the start of this
To the very end
Swimming in ignorance
We'll do it all again

Sands from the hour glass
Keep on seeping
As we watch history
Repeating...

Under the baking sun
Nothing has ever changed
What's being done's been done
The path remains the same

As the bell loudly tolls
Time is fleeting
Watching history
Repeating...

Have there been lessons learned
I'm thinking not this turn
Getting what's deserved
In everything we earn

We still remain the same
In our hearts beating
As we watch history
Repeating...
 Mar 2017 Bob B
Brent Kincaid
I don’t believe a word you say;
You voted for Trump, so go away.
I don’t want your opinion any more
On literally any kind of issue.
Though you now begin to realize
What you did to us all. Get a tissue.
Go stand in the corner and let us
Adults fix up the mess you made.
None of you paid attention
Further than the second grade.

It’s not truly all your fault, I confess.
We have to lay blame on the press.
I’m not much happier with the
Millions who didn’t even vote.
They stayed home and ******;
Made the country miss the boat.
A lazy, worthless population
Is a shameful kind of circumstance
But a stupid loudmouthed bunch of fools
Is at the prom without any pants.

Then we look to a political group
That rolls around in their own ****
By electing a pompous baboon
Who can barely read or spell
Who spews out daily jabberwocky
That drives us all to a kind of hell.
He's an attention ***** and monster.
A spoiled rich brat with no brains
Who wants to set fire to the USA
Then urinate on the remains.

The horror is, though it’s all visible
Your lack of care about facts is risible.
You gladly go along with him when
He blames his predecessor instead,
Saying the fault is what your idiot did
Not keeping the truth firmly in your head.
It’s no longer campaign rhetoric.
So please wake the hell up and see
What your stupidity is doing to us
Because we can’t bend you over our knees.
 Mar 2017 Bob B
Graff1980
Untitled
 Mar 2017 Bob B
Graff1980
White snowflakes fall.
Brown boots break the ground.
Porcelain perceptions
are lost and now
crimson puddles
seed the grounds.

This is what is found
when nationalistic
rhetoric
slowly crosses
from let’s make
this country great
to this is who
is to blame
and who to hate.

Till, that ill suited
nuclear rage
resets the atomic age
and glass jars
of peach preserves,
rhubarb,
and non-perishables
in dusty cellars
are the only things
left of us human beings.
 Mar 2017 Bob B
Graff1980
Untitled
 Mar 2017 Bob B
Graff1980
They are a mad mass of
political extremists
trying to be free
in this society.

But their collective minds are
turgid tumorous towers
blank expanses
that expand their
oppressive presence
while stifling the essence
of creativity.

I wait for a better world
one without these mad pig pen children
who cry angrily for their imagined losses.

Until, I wait no more, and fresh fields are formed
over our long decayed forms
letting flowers bloom effulgent.
New rows rise full of white and pink roses,
while trees spread their wing-like leaves
allowing nature to finally breath
a gasp of relief
without the mentally diseased
human beings to plague
her floating oblong figure.
 Mar 2017 Bob B
J Valle
04/03
 Mar 2017 Bob B
J Valle
So here I am, once again
Lacking all self esteem,
And dignity and pride,
But above all things,
Lacking him.

If I don't run in his direction,
If I don't hug him when he is near,
Is because all my loving,
I keep it caged,
Suffering,
Starving,
Begging for some love,
A kiss, a smile, a look,
Anything from him.

But I keep it caged,
For its own protection,
I'll let it die,
Rot and decompose,
A dying love is easier to take,
Than his indifference.
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