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 Apr 2016
Sam Temple
he spit the little baggy from his mouth to his hand
I took the prize and dropped it right into my own mouth...
turning to leave the filth of the lower Burnside Bridge,
as I walked away I developed a plan;
I would take my little baggy a few blocks down south,
spit the prize back into my hand, and start to cook...
place the little baggy delicately into a syringe

spit drooled from my mouth as my prize took
poetry month prompt 14


'bridge' and 'syringe' are a bit of a broken rhyme, but what the heck....
 Apr 2016
Sam Temple
she sat across from me
inexpensive hole-in-the-wall
our first Chinese food date
the yellow wallpaper
the red lanterns
her smile lighted my heart
deftly wielding the chopsticks
I passed her the fortune cookie
twinkling blue eyes accepted
the sweet fair…
upon crumble the note fell
picking it up with nimble and delicate fingers
she read aloud,
“you and your spouse will be happy in your life”
we smiled at each other
and paid the tab –

this morning I looked at our picture
in front of mother’s Turner home
that cookie message
pressed beneath our lovers embrace
doesn’t seem real
that was 14 years ago –
poetry month prompt 13
 Apr 2016
Joel M Frye
They who walk around the corner
take the right angle.

They who travel with ****** in pocket
feel chipper all day.

Those who watch circus parade
often see effluents.

You will run into new acquaintances.
Stop texting while driving.

Jealous trolls oft become poets.
The reverse is also true.

Distance between wise man
and wise-***
is half a wit.

The addicted mystic survives
on prayer and medication.

May you be only half as miserable
as those you envy.
NaPoWriMo day 13 - poem based upon sayings from a fortune cookie.
The verse about distance is autobiographical.
 Apr 2016
Ottar
You will get lost in the big city
you WILL, too hard, you WON'T, too much
the secret to a long life is keep breathing and a pulse pounding
you will seek riches and find pity
you will find a garden of riches yet turn it too mulch
you will marry an attentive spouse if you don't mind the hounding

the secrets of the moment are lost in the blink of both eyes,
the secret of receiving is an open palm
if you touch the swollen belly of a bull, and you find ardor
you can find beauty everywhere do not despise the disguise
a secret a flock of birds leaves behind is calm ( bird **** is a secretion not a secret)
the secret to great wealth is found offshore

you will go places reading without, leaving your seat
here is to laughter
hope you smiled
well at least tell me you didn't cry
 Apr 2016
Joel M Frye
Let those who live in every land,
Let us break bread together.
Let freedom span both east and west;
Let us wander where we will.
Let hope and sorrow now unite,
Let the whole creation cry,
Let it be a dance we do.
Let Christmas come.
Let love continue long...
Let there be light.
NaPoWriMo day 12 - an index poem.  Taken from "Singing the Living Tradition" - a Unitarian Universalist hymnal, the Index of Titles and First Lines.
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