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 4h
nivek
your face carved from a star
travelled a younger universe

unknown to all except God
a silent echo of love

knitted together in womb of woman
seen to be created from afar-

brought near, a spirit
reborn from the invisible.
I am aware of the voices
Aware of the choices
That led to these scars
Each one is beautiful
Each one is dark
Each one tells a story
Of how they left their mark
Some are from anger
Some are from pain
Some of these scars even have a name
I remember how they cut me
How I felt ashamed
In a moment of weakness
I’d play a little game
Sink the blade deeper
Grit me teeth through the pain
Each one of these scars
Tells a story
No two are the same
Mental illness is a real disease that affects people of all colors, races, genders, and religions . It never discriminates! if you or someone you know is struggling with mental illness or suicide please there is hope reach out to the suicide and crisis lifeline CALL OR CHAT 988 or go to 988lifeline.org
my dad used to say all of the songs were about being seventeen young and sweet, wind in your hair, excitement in your veins and I thought wow, that means seventeen could be my year will my fairy godmother spare a wish? can my rags of hopelessness finally sparkle? maybe seventeen is the excuse I need to be brave to take the shot in the dark if it means finding light to cross the unbeaten path even though tree roots are out to get me to express the love flowing in the canyons of my heart to stop closing doors as quickly as I open them my age is young, but my dreams are old with this next chapter comes stories untold
I've had 536,457,600 seconds of air and don't want to waste one more
 Jun 4
badtaste
Desire Disgusts Even The Likes of Me

The moon, shrouded in a veil of clouds,
Cast a pallid glow upon the scene,
As they, haunted by their own yearnings,
Found themselves entangled in its embrace.

But lo, as the shadows lengthened,
And the air grew thick with unease,
They recoiled at the touch of desire,
For it was a foul and wretched thing.

It was a night of eerie whispers,
When desire, with its tainted allure,
Crept into the hearts of those
Who feared no sin, no darkness.

Even those who knew no fear
Were repelled by its twisted form,
And thus they turned away,
Leaving behind the stench of their own loathing.

See me as a man not as the monster you came to know
I’m not crazy just a little unwell
My mind is not for rent, but it sure the **** is for sale
Make me an offer
One I can’t refuse
My mind is for sale
Gently abused
It comes with bipolar, schizophrenia too
It’s got a history,
Forever Feeling blue
how many times can I google The words
Ways to tie a noose
You could say I'm suicidal
Mental
Crazy as glue
I’ve got so many problems
Come on
I’ll sale it to you
It comes with roommates
And some ****** up points of view
I’ve got issues and voices too
There telling me it’s over
I’m as worthless as poo
Absolute Mush
My mind is nothing but goo
I’ll sell it cheap
Sale it to you
.I’ll make you an offer
Throw in my dignity too
I lost my mind
It’s for sale
Never get to close at the zoo
A hippopotamus can step on your shoe
You could get bit by a rabid racoon
Become lunch for a lion or get **** on by a loon
the zebras are crazy they'll eat your baby well humming a tune
They’ll  make a dessert out of your lady  
And eat her with a spoon  

YES! You can die when you visit the zoo
So.............
Here’s my advice to you ***** the hippo the lion and the loon stay far away from the dangers that lurk inside of the zoo
 Aug 2023
David Lessard
If I give you love
what will I get in return?
will it be acknowledged?
or will it be but spurned?
If I offer my love
will you be mine forever?
or will you laugh at me
and say to me   - not ever.
Am I just a fool in love?
head over heels and blind?
silly and sheepish, blushing
not knowing what's in my mind?
I stand on the steps of happiness
worried, lest I fall
falling at your feet
all curled up in a ball.
Columbus took a chance
and by God - he did all right
I cannot leave you now
without putting up a fight.
I smiled and said I love you
my voice began to crack
but your eyes lit up I swear
as you smiled at me right back!
 Aug 2023
Where Shelter
<>

”To dream by the oak and awake by the sea
when August has ripened and turned Jubilee
you must enter dominion of summer's delight
and live in the rapture of candescent light

Oh to live and to love one must first learn to kiss,  
the kinetics of summer, with eternal bliss.”


~from vienna bombardieri’s poem, “Kinetics Of Summer~
(with her kind permission)

<>

First verse pinpoints accurate, this,
my spot!
by oak and sea,
my precise longitude and latitude, where my summertime
eyes open to receive the gift of morning’s light, observing
the conjunction of land, hard by the sea, the land-ed avian gentry
and sea~sailor birds interacting, sharing the uprising currents,
for sport and observation, travel and pleasured sailing,
these “Masters of the Sky can fly for hours (or days), while barely flapping,” and this verse stuns, and
my shock,

at these, her words
my breathing is gasped and grasped
by oak and sea, for so it be,
this is where
my morning’s operatic scrum, ballet and dance hall hullabaloo,
my diurnal natural choreography is performed,
while slow sipping my very heated first coffee

it was here
that I learned to love more easily,
for the kinetics of summers trio of sun, sky, and moderate breezes,
lulled the turbulence of my disheartened lives into an easier
order, the world~surround, a living, breathing exercise that
warmed the spirit, cooled the soul, and spoke without uttering
a single word,
here dear person, is the where and the when,
the comfort of the natural-blanket
that enwraps, covers, cherishes the atmosphere entire,
containing the healing elixirs and protective ointments,
that remove the
plaque of life’s accumulated injuries, slights and scar tissue

simply put,
here I breath freely,
here I see with clarity
here the infusions of
living in nature, prolongs,
restore, remind, enliven
and enhances,
the intermixture of
body and soul

here in actual deed,
the kiss of summer bliss
upon
my tiring cell’s walls,
are resurrected even unto the nuclei,
by the warm breath of sun life and sun light,
and the breezes of salty sweet caramel air
and under their loving, combined-dominion
am I
resurrected and will yet sense,
one more Jubilee again
as I lay dreaming
by the oak and the sea…
great appreciation to Vienna B. for the beautiful poem she wrote,
and thanks for the inspiration!
Always be dreaming!
W.S.
46 years
What do you get
Your way past old
Your pants don’t seem to fit
Your always cold
Like day old bread
Your beginning to mold
Broken Hips
Brittle Bones
46 years
**** that’s old
You always got to have a reason to laugh, you’re never too old.
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