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 Apr 2018
Poetic T
We leave etches, imprints within those
                 when we relinquish
                                 our mortal form.
For every breath we took
               is still carried on the wind.
       Every word is still voiced,
                 echoes of our time
                 brush against your face.

But even though we are just a breeze
                                            in the wind.
We can still touch upon
                     that imprint.
Showing that even though
         were no longer here.
         you breath in our memory.
 Apr 2018
Pauline Morris
You said "I don't know if you think you're just a burden to me or what"

The answer there is yes, that's exactly what I fear
I've been made to feel a burden since the day I was born
But at times I feel like I'm worth so much more
That I'm not just a burden
But maybe someone to be loved, maybe even cherished
But then I think, maybe I'm really nothing at all

Maybe the universe saw I wasn't fit
Maybe in life, I deserved all of it
You have a hard time showing any feelings
In that void you leave me in, sometimes it sends my thoughts reeling
Everything gets tumbled, my words become jumbled
My actions become erratic, so not humble
It's because I fear the worst, that's exactly what I am

A Burden

©Pauline Russell
 Feb 2018
Nat Lipstadt
VD/ lasting life

I have VD.

the decapitating, desiccating disease slow taking over

every day another word withers and there are no replacements

the diminishing returns cannot be substituted and all losses are
permanent, like Samson’s hair, once cut, cannot grow back

I live alone.  Easier then conversing,
gaps in your sentences,
****** communication that is pointless anyway

banished by overuse and incapacitated;
tarnished by time, silver polish resistant;
too late for inoculation the cortex eroding;
the Vocabulary Diminishment has cost me so far:

rain and all its weathered relations;
sad and it’s variant cousins;
body partition arrhythmia, breathtaking breathing loving has
jumped overboard

lasting life

never bothered me that verse and curse rhyme so fittingly,
fit for life, for ‘tis nothing but re-racked intermittent rhymes,
reasoned rhythms connecting the intermittent mayhem’s
dropping by for fun and choosing, verse or curse

nevertheless, won’t bother to explain the difference
between last and lasting, leave it for you to self-teach-taught

nonetheless,  body is degrading, the needs grow strongly weaker and the bites taken out by time, her, imagination, p ain,
even worse words disappear, f irst a letter the hole s aces are
modern art product, avant garde  at the finish line

empties remain as abscesses with all-access passes,
cortex locked on only receive is busted and most of your
transmissions go direct to the
Junk mail folder

winter drags and summer now a vision of was and no longer a
will be, a thrilling sensory palace with a closed sign
appliqué to my weakened ayes

time to rise time, to shave, put on the cutaway uniform
when you obtain the obligatory occasional I love you
and it winces, and tears still come easy
when you want them too
but you don’t want them to arrive or
let depart the ones that presently dry
of their own according in their place

mechanics of writing are obstacles and the cherished
lovely fluidity of transportation traveling transformation is searingly wearing and beyond the just,
the reach, of the true meaning of meme
which means has no more to communicate

the days of slow wasting away,
when the touch is worse
you say out out loud to the tiles
shave away the slough, flush the fallen skin cells,
just cut me down, these bad poems are too onerous
when the brrrain is hardened ice ball hitting forehead

so we go away in every sensory hurrah
retired to solitary ask no questions expect no answers
dreaming of healings but that is another self-starting movie
dreaming sequence that has been erased

fearsome, the energy drinks required to survey survival,

much easier to bid adieu and bypass au revoir

the standard set can be modified or erased
and everyone wants a shortcut lesson to skip to the
top of the line, are they unaware that line will choke au fin

important meetings ahead, assembly the solutions and your
children want answers and you give them a mirror and implore
them do better than thy lousy training

don’t make no difference, their genomes contain
mon nom so they come cursed and I who wrote, shot prayers
on skywriting writ, have none to offer present-lies

poor babies too long this elegy, too bad for you
work is hard and no r&r location on my list and short
attention spans will bring you low in world of words


say bad bye to over loved companions

https://hellopoetry.com/words/

the Vocabulary Diminishment disease don’t permit
reuse: true colors needed crest creation and all the
breaks are bad and the words have fled my pointer
fingerprint fingertip

code only in 0’s;
it’s like having halve a tongue
and if you were among the lucky few who knew my visage,
look away look away and let this too long spaghetti sauce be
recipe thrown away my vision is satisfied

3:11 am and no more
s words to fall upon
 Oct 2017
Ashley Chapman
I awoke
with mountains in their heights
that spoke
of memories that wove
through knees
thighs
and ***** bone --
to the inky waters of the lake below.

In that cabin
where the sable pines enclose
and all about
from coral-white
to grayish
turquoise-blue
snow.

That scene:
on the edge
where the stillness
Knows.
Written because it was inspired by Daisy Clarke's painting, a friend, of a mountain cabin scene surrounded by a lake.
 Sep 2017
Poetic T
A voice is like a raindrop,
       lost in the downpour.

                It is easily washed away.
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