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 Feb 2019
Joye Lange
WHAT IS EXPECTED OF US? -  TOO MUCH
WHY SO MANY WARS? -  TOO MUCH
ALL OF THE HURT AND SUFFERING  -  TOO MUCH
HATE OF FELLOW MAN - TOO MUCH
NOT THINKING CLEARLY- TOO MUCH
NOT ENOUGH LOVE -TOO MUCH
 Feb 2019
Anthony Perry
Lay down this night
Try not to fight
Night terrors shepherd a blighted terror insight

Get through this flashing fright and wake up with another mental lashing akin to febral crashing

Every kid's born with a light
And as kid the dreams gripped mine tight

Eye lids fall to sleep
Fadeing into shades blacker than black
Seamlessly brought back
Seeing the dark move, coming closer to kiss my cheek
Choking on fear I couldn't get out a peep
Eye lids peeled and tacked on the tourtures rack

Afraid to see my family die I'd cover my face with invisible hands
So much hell inside my brain
I'm forced to watch as my sister's would fall and smear wherever it lands

How can a kid see so much when he sleeps?

Waking up afraid I would go to school unaware it was real life
Feeling dissolved, broken, school was like chopping at a tree with a dull knife

Live my day and proceed to lay my head down
Pillows and blankets comfort but cannot support the torture when my heads bound
Tears in the eyes knowing the nightmares are always around
knowing I'm not crazy as I feel voices with no sound

At some point I accepted this is how I am

Night after night, horrid beings and terrible stories unfolded like the buckled spine that's scraped into a body bag after singing forty storeys to the ground
©anthonyasylum
 Feb 2019
Shiv Pratap Pal
When I stepped into my room
My wife greeted me with a broom

I Said, Good Evening
My Lovely Sweet Wife

She Replied, Bad Evening
Don’t you remember my warning?

Again you came totally drunk
Your nose always looks like a trunk.
Just a Smile or a Laugh
 Feb 2019
South by Southwest
This I find the truth
Can't write a poem while sneezing
It will turn hai-choo
 Feb 2019
Eryck
The alarm clock rings
and once again
the rooster sings
the morning new.
Slumbering flowers
lift their petals to drink
the drops of dew.
  Reliable Sun
vanquishes the darkness
as he lightens the sky.
  I see an honored guest
is in the garden,
his tiny nametag reads... butterfly.

       But on the other side of town
       someone struggles with
       addiction.

 Habits grab hard,
break will powers  in two.
The will becomes won't
and the power is all through.
Satiated,
temporaneously satisfied.
only till the next time the habit has to be gratified.
The victim moves on trying to reassemble his day
Avoid
a crooked roaded relapse,
along the way.

Oh ghost of the host why must repitition repeat the most
and feel so good in its continuation?
Why must familiarity breed the need
for more familiar feelings?
To the point of killing control, sealing a fate,
dealing defeat,
stifle healing.

     If your out there guardian soul, spirit helper, what's your roll, your goal? 
 Guiding with helping hand or let stand the habitualized
habit man.

Isn't there  a self preservation station within?
A gland or impulse control button to switch from sin to win?

Even Edgar Allan Poe stubbed his toe on a ten step program trying to get in the door.
Ill-begotten and craven, drunken and unshaven cried the raven...never more.

Guiding spirit it ends here!         

No more slave to the crave
or impulse picking from the addiction tree.
The need to repeat and repeat
the pattern becomes a self fulfilling prophesy.

Back to normalacy, complacency,
it's a moderation that one seeks.
To enjoy the ****** of bells, hallalulah wails,
a babies dimpled cheeks.

Can you do that Spirit helper, please.
Let sing the bodies vibration.
 No more internal damnation.
No more self flagellation.
Allow to draw power from these words.
Think of this all as an intervention!
A tribute to Edgar Allan Poe who wrote the greatest of poems,"The Raven" and died young of alcoholism. Listen to Christopher Walken recite "The Raven" on you tube.
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