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 May 29 CE Green
Me
Everything
lights up
everything else
at the same
time

We close our hearts
at first
cause it's so bright

The light is frightening
much more
much more than darkness

Nothing is nameless
anymore
and at the same time
carries the same name

My heart is Yours
and with me
I take your pain as if it was
my own

And You know what, my Love?
And gladly so!
 May 27 CE Green
Shamai
Dreams
 May 27 CE Green
Shamai
Writing a poem
Is like speaking my mind
Only, it slows me down
Until words I can find
I take my time
And speak my truth
And sooner or later
It comes back to my youth
When I lived freely
Not a care in the world
Played all day on the street
Just jumped and twirled
Until tired I fell
To the ground in a heap
Laid my head down just so
And soon fell asleep
And dreamed of a world
Where I could play
With freedom from strife
And fear pushed away
But life is not like that
When we get old
There are things to accomplish
We can’t be so bold
So some of the dreams
Are put away for a while
And things I must do
I begin to compile
Until all has been done
And my time here is over
Then play, I can do
Until time to changeover
 May 20 CE Green
JJ Hutton
Reciprocate, the cornerstone,
pile up the keepsakes,
the more refined the technology,
the more Vaudeville the ****** mistakes,
but that doesn't mean I'm immune
to tenderness--I could use some tenderness.
Tenderly now, your words, the soft words,
bring them to me in the sacred hours,
while the apartment complex sleeps deep.
Sing the soft words, your body supine
on the balcony. Stick your little fingers
in my mouth and draw out the side effects.
Project the man I once was back onto me
so that I might sew myself to the outline.
In your perfected feminine way, overestimate
my competence and build a life atop
the old man, the old me, the recurring me.
Warm yourself with thoughts of children,
of silver, of gold, of the roots of human desire
that split the ground and fuse with your feet.
 May 5 CE Green
Shamai
I tend to be
So *******  my self
Thinking that perfection
Is what I need
When in fact
It is
The perfection
That is
My ruination
 May 3 CE Green
chichee
I over-salt the cannelloni
again, you laugh and swallow
my tongue
It's an apple sky, crisp and sweet and something
to sink our teeth into-
the radio plays
something in
double beat
ba-dump ba-dump
Living room hearts.
Hope it made you smile
 Apr 5 CE Green
Shamai
I don’t understand politics
The comings and goings
The ups and the downs
And the ego crowing
The lies and deception
And covering things up
They yell and they scream
And each other interrupt
Let’s put a woman in charge
And see how things will change
To the women men will bow
Now, won’t that feel strange
Women care for their families
And can surely multi task
We can watch them live truth
Vulnerability to unmask
So if politicians could finally
Put away their war toys
And grow into men
Instead of little boys
And listen, really listen
To all that we say
We might finally have humans
Present for us everyday
Robbed of purpose, I’m bereft.
I’m a hammer without nails.
The castle that I built is far away
Behind iron fences and locked gates.
I’m exiled here with tools still shiny
But no blueprint was sent along
And lumber is in short supply.
I’m a craftsman - I must build,
Or rust along with all my tools.
I feel I’m left out in the cold
And the forecast is for rain.
ljm
Still struggling with being dumped into retirement so very unwillingly and so painfully.
 Mar 29 CE Green
chichee
Your smile is an animal that
still haunts me on
Rainy Tuesday nights.
When I'm feeling more fifteen than I ever did
at fifteen.
When my deadbolt ribs
come loose.
"So that's what you're really like."
******* too.

Some people are just
too weird to love
and I'm done looking
for kisses.
Self-indulgence at its most pretentious.
 Mar 27 CE Green
JJ Hutton
I'm losing it, the composure, in living rooms,
surrounded by friends, rooms with multiple
televisions, honey-stacked on top of each other
so the husband can game and the wife can
watch The Office for the hundredth time.
And they talk, with absolute seriousness,
about which Harry Potter house they'd
be in. And they talk love languages.
And they talk enneagrams.

And I notice how I've become the object of their sentences.
And I notice how I'm there to be some fringe prop,
someone to say what they want to say, someone
to project themselves back onto themselves,
without fear of divine punishment.
 Mar 27 CE Green
Devin Ortiz
King Midas has his gold.
The writer has his folly.

He’s broken bread on a tale or two.
Hundreds of scores, blessed by few.

Memories dwindle between the pages,
Pieces of self transcribed over ages.

Words written today,
Swiftly begin to fade.

Every line which is writ,
Leaves scars, oozing grit.

Nobody is the same as Yesterday,
But what’s this chameleon to say?

An invader most foreign has arised.
Dooming with thoughts of demise.

The cycle of ancient history,
All creation forgotten in tomorrow’s mystery.
Change writing poetry time forget mystery memory midas
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