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 Jul 2018
Graff1980
A little voice
cries out at last
and makes his
first appearance here.

Pink skin
and thin black hair,
little belly button
poking out where
the cord was cut.

Wrinkled flesh
that’s spotted brown
lifts the baby
from the bed
and cradles him
in an affectionate
embrace.

Sparkles splashed
across her eyes
a smile grows
so large and wide
as she holds
this newborn babe.

The dominoes
of years
tip over too fast
as the little boy grows,
and plays those
board games
with his grandma.

Wheel a fortune watchers,
they both enjoy
beating the contestants
to the answers.

Long car trips
and chocolate chips,
she plays and sit
as the substitute
church pianist,
all soft interludes
of memories
he shared with her
had a tasty musical tint.

Later on, the boy is gone
his grandma starts to fade
and that once precious child
doesn’t make it back that way
in time to say goodbye.
 Jul 2018
Dr Peter Lim
In writing we test the limits
of an idea even if we weren't sure
which left latent couldn't see the light
if proven right it would likely endure

living life is irrefutably a lacuna
sifting the impure from the pure
too many scenes before us need examining
we rise to a height when we remove the obscure
* inspired by an idea of Lawrence Hall, a fellow HP writer
 Jul 2018
Anonymous Freak
need a song so badly
you can't breathe?

But nothing fits.

Nothing plays back the story in your head
and makes sense of it.

Nothing mimics your racing heartbeat
in dark validation
until it slows down.
Series 5/19/18
 Jul 2018
GaryFairy
I can feel the gravity
savage sadness grabbing me

like a stabbing agony
panicking heartbeat rapidly

like a drastic atrophy
my own tapestry of travesty

applicable calamity
catastrophe is my canopy

the faculty of tragedy
with no strategy for amnesty

the laxity of sanity
I can feel the gravity
 Jul 2018
Graff1980
The soft egg shelled mind
is soiled and embroiled
by the terrible turmoil
of technological silence,
with a key board click
we once lost it
however now
in swift with sic stealth
the quiet imbeds itself.

Sorrowful seeds dropped
sowing painful thoughts.
Small sprouts
peek and poke out
through the surface
to catch us all
as unsettled earth
is disturbed.

Fierce floods of
painful stuff
erode the
fertile ground.

Stillness brings
crimson flowers blooming
and fruits falling
to rot on the dirt,
it hurts
but births
new verses,
till there is
poetry.
Not the attraction a boy of ten
has for his peers
he was not even among
the intimate friends
yet a kind of lust I felt
when he was around
a flutter and denser breath
and in his absence
paling of all else.

That early seeding
was a hushed gust
blowing awhile in the ravine of
deep south.

Pretty girls emerged from the dust
and the first man in me
grew out of first love.
 Jul 2018
Graff1980
I have all day,
the digital display
of my computer
will not display
the games I play,
or let me watch any movies,
It won’t even boot properly.
So, I go outside.

Walking, the sun warms
one side of my face.
I brush my hand
against the bush
that sits
just this side of
a ***** gray fence.

Thin limbs of light brown
poke my darting digits
that dared to ******,
observe, and explore
the texture of the
yellow green
miniature leaves.

I take my time,
see strangers stray
in a laze
walking slowly
away,
hands interlaced
in an unpracticed stage
of adolescent love.

The private school black top
is broil an egg hot,
but unlike long ago
I do not let my toes
touch that searing summer heat,
I do not need to test me
anymore.

I drive out to the country
just to relax,
and follow a road
that takes me back
to my brother’s
grandma’s and dad’s
house.
I haven’t gone there
for a very long time,
my mind says
I should go visit them,
but then I remember
they are both dead

I try to enjoy this
disconnected day
but, every hour or so
I catch myself thinking
I should look that up
when I get home,
or I will watch this,
or play that.
 Jul 2018
Graff1980
My beneficence
stems from
my shaded happiness,
because if I was
consumed by
anger or sadness
I would not
have the energy
to be kind.
 Jul 2018
Graff1980
It is lust that leads me
to observe discreetly
this beauty before me.

A tight, toned, and tanned physique
glistens spectacularly
with the savage intensity
of her workout.

Lines of definition
cut across her back
as her shoulders ripple
with distinct striations.

Superb human specimen
but I keep my distance
because I do not want to bother
this artist of flesh I have mentioned.

So, I struggle to be a gentleman,
working as hard as I can
to not lust,
but I am only human
eventually I must
release the energy
inspired by this
divine entity.
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