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 Oct 14
Shang
it was much heavier than I expected
the cherry-wood box
all that's left of you
it was heavier than the news of your death
but not nearly as heavy as the loss of you
every moment you weren't there when I was a child.
you taught me a lot,
not directly,
but your absence taught me everything
about loneliness
about pretending to be strong
during my weakest times
it taught me how to do time
without expecting anyone to be there
and no one ever was
but you're finally with me,
now that you're gone.
the news of losin' you wasn't
what I expected it to be
that cherry-wood box was a lot
heavier than I thought it'd be
I wish I had a softer past
so I could cry for you
like I ought to be
but my baby, she cries for you, for me
and it helps
I miss you like I always have
it's just different now
rip dad
 Oct 14
Grace
spring is hardly sure it loves the summer sun,
till the wind is warm and fruitful.
uncertainty amongst strangers
 Oct 14
Grace
the life breathing in will quell the dread of a burning day before you; for, in the mornings, the air is fresh and chilled,
and you may graze in the openness

until the flowers fulfill you,
awaken you.

Take your forest path, your field trail, the one you marked yourself
for these moments. And bring the dogs,
let their leashes be loose,
let your soul be freed here, in this scenery.
the ritual of morning
 Oct 14
Grace
what does the utterer give to the prayer?
conduit
 Oct 14
Drab
You get to heaven.
You say "high" to everyone.
And they still are disappointed.
RIP - R. Dangerfield
 Oct 14
Reichel
your eyes are forest green
what else can I ask for
I stare at them for a long time
sometimes not taking my eyes off

you ask me why I stare
and I tell  u why
I tell u I love looking at them
I can get lost in them
I never want to come back
 Oct 13
Druzzayne Rika
The thoughts of my mind
the words of my tongue
it's the same as what gen ai does
But the soul that I am
it's beyond the dimensions
unreplicated but same as you
 Oct 11
Reichel
words are just things
things that hurt the heart
they leave scars on everyone
that wont go away
and never forgotten

what can heal my scars
love perhaps, but
that is another word that will hurt me
another word that will leave a scar
 Oct 11
Gavin
I cough words
onto a page,
and hold it up to the world.
They call it art, they call it poetry.
 Oct 11
Jill
Travel free my inner scapegoat
You’re liberated, off this hook
No more shame-horned
Guilt-stomached dread,
       scarce enough to wrong-bare
Not startle-sneezed or tremble-shook

I excise redundant remnants
Bad wattle glands where crime hangs large
Not Billie-blame,
Nanny-regret
       or just a wrongless kid
No fair-trial felon, biased charge

Imagine dropping heavy torts
The solid clunk as fault hits floor
Past carried light
Kind compassion
       wide enough to weight-bare
Rich mixed plant pasture evermore
An end to serveless inner war
©2024

BLT Webster’s Word of the Day challenge (scapegoat) date 11th October 2024. A scapegoat is a person who is unfairly blamed for something others have done.
 Oct 11
Poetoftheway
tired old ripped up rope,
shedding shredding,
interwoven from
worn~warnings, that
do not hint!
but volume speak,

of a lifetime well used,
the two ends, no longer straightforward,
now stretched, misshapen, countless uses,
left squiggly serpentine, from knots left tied
for~far too long, till they cannot be returned,
to a youthful vigor

them my lifelines;

that stretch from the Atlantic to Pacific
upon my new york hands, right & left,
end to nearing endings, do not hint at
stories untold, geezers, happy to reveal
their tiredness’s are denied a golden oldie
status, just a wind-ed wind-up doll winding
down, coiled-springs uncurling, decoiling…
tensions releasing…

this is the way of the poet,
the words no longer
streaming on demand,
they blip, scurry, a side dent,
glancing, like a windshield hit,
here and gone,
before a napkin secured,
a nearly dried out Bic
secured to scratch remnants
of a phrase spectacular,
end up crumpled, buried,
predeceased in a pocket of an-old fav, a Harris Tweed sport jacket, nurtured
over the years, the faint haze odor
stink of when he
smoked, a couple of
decades long ago…

he rambles,
like that rope end unraveling,
he is was a poet of the way,
for this the way of signing off,
intermittent coughing fits,
the nervous glances of strangers
as he pretends to sashay across Broadway when the light is flash down ten seconds to cross the width of Eighty Feet,
on that old American Indian path
that stretches from the tip of Manhattan Isle
to the Capitol of corruption, Albany, 150 miles…

you see,
poets garner knowledge,
then drip
drops drabs in simile and
metaphors, for this  poem
is just the unraveling of a poet
who has,
worn out his welcome,
and smirks/winces
notionally, a long way
to say, the poets has
lost his own way,
now untied, untitled,
unentiteled,
and that’s a
wrap…
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