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 Mar 2017
Willow-Anne
She’s more fun when she is drunk
At least…until she’s not
Because she’s puking in the toilet
And regretting her last shot

She’s more confident when she’s drunk
Gorgeous and ready to score
Until she looks in a mirror
And feels even uglier than before

She likes herself more when she is drunk
Until that feeling goes away
When she is so far beyond gone
That her self-hatred comes out to play

She’s happier when she’s drunk
All her issues leave her brain
But they all come crashing back at once
And cause her so much pain

She likes the world more when drunk
It’s filled with so much good
Until one little thing sets her off
And she hates it all more than she should

She likes life more when she’s drunk
Her mind for once feels still
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to end things with a pill

But she can stop any time she wants
Or so she’d have you believe
Because alcohol makes her seem so happy
That is, until all her friends leave
Edit: (3/10/17) Oh my goodness! I haven't logged on in a couple of days and boy did I miss a lot!
I am doing my best to respond to all your messages and comments now! Sorry for the wait!
Thank you all so much for such an overwhelming amount of love and support <3 You guys are amazing
For those of you who struggle with addiction of any kind, hang in there, and I hope you all find the help and support you need <3
Best wishes to you all. And thank you again <3

Edit: (3/11/17)
Alrighty, so I just got a very long message that without going too into details accused me of poking fun at alcoholism with this poem. I would just like to be very clear that this poem was in no way inteaded to make fun of the illness that is alcoholism, and if it came off that way to anyone else, I am truely truely sorry. Words can not express that enough for I very much wished the opposite intent. Alcoholism (and addiction in general) is a very serious illness that I take very seriously. I sinceraly hope that anyone who is struggling with it gets the help they need and those of you who are in recovery, I am proud of you. Stay strong and continue to work towards it <3
Once again, my sincere apologies again to anyone who was offended.
Love to you all <3 - Willow-Anne
Excuse me St. Peter , can I get in ******
Is there a head shop with a storefront of gold
Can I lay beside living waters with a
fat doobie
Does Michael have a stash of hash he
might allow me to trash
If I could bring a blueberry blunt then
brother I'm in like Flynt
A field of Acapulco gold , truly heaven sent*...
Copyright March 5 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Feb 2017
Polar
I stand before you

Bare, bold, naked

To hold a mirror

Against your hatred
 Feb 2017
Gidgette
Time,
We view this intangible thing
As linear
But I believe
That somewhere
I'm still a child
And all that has been
Is
All that will be
Is
Eternal Recurrence
I believe
That these things
These forces,
The very forces that turn the earth,
Are the same forces
Which turn our hearts
Binding our souls
Every soul
Existing all at once
We
Live
Love
Die
We

Are
I hope I don't sound any crazier than usual;)  and I really don't know where this came from. But there it is.
 Feb 2017
L B
Snow plows beeping
Reverse whine and scrape
Swirling blizzard of waking—Strange
in this place where
boredom banks both snow and cold
Are my eyes running?
After all
there's a stiff wind, and it’s 18 below....

Pictures and phone calls make up my family
Stray cats eat suet I leave for the birds
who make names for themselves in sunlit bushes
Love these more than...

my hearse of a job

where that ice cream vat—slipped
smashed
my sodden dish-doin’

fingers    against     sink

Pain mounts its insurrection!
Ambushed!
from every direction
Fainting in steam
Squeezing my eyes    
till the blood shuts my brain-failing
Down my wrist
all over
the front of this rubber apron....

Someone hates me somewhere

Someone found me more tenacious
than a road-**** skunk!

I eat    I drink    I work    I sleep
between these vicious icicles  


-18F = -28 C
"I'm lovin' it!"
Only one of the sorrows of Portland, Maine, winter 1997-- to whom it may concern.
 Feb 2017
Breeze-Mist
Debate isn't about scoring a win
Or coercing an enemy into giving in
But getting fellow humans to find what we hold in common
Debate
verb  de·bate
Definition of debate
debated; debating
intransitive verb
1obsolete :  fight, contend
2a :  to contend in words
b :  to discuss a question by considering opposed arguments
3:  to participate in a debate
transitive verb
1 a :  to argue about
b :  to engage (an opponent) in debate
2: to turn over in one's mind :  to think about (as different options) in order to decide
-Merriam-Webster online dictionary
Considering the other side is as much a part of the definition as arguing against it.
 Jan 2017
Denel Kessler
The most
dangerous
are those
sincere
in their belief
of a lie
 Jan 2017
Graff1980
Two doors down
from a bar
two people,
strangers to me,
sit in a doorway
up on sixth street;
Wearing winter caps,
winter coats,
even though,
I’m sure they know
it isn’t winter yet,
but it’s so cold.
They have each other
as they sit in separate chairs
leaning together.
I wanted to give them
a dollar or some food
but they are sleeping
and I know how hard
it is to get good sleep
in this life.

If I told you they
were children
would you care?

If I told you
they were women
would you care?

If I told you they
were white men
again would
you care?

If I told you
they were black
brown skin
would it matter
At all?    

If I told you
at one time
over fifteen years ago
I slept on a couch
in a hallway
in a building
with cracked
and shattered glass
windows that
let cold winds in.
Cuddling next
to my oldest friend
one head poking out
at each end
from under the thick
sleeping bag I had.
Fully loaded for winter,
except between us
we only had one ski mask
and one pair of gloves,
so we switched off and on.

If I told you what was wrong
so you could find what’s right
how our lives our deeply intertwined
and that this soap box is yours
as much as it is mine?

Would you take the time to see
and help the myriad of yous and mes
that are still suffering,
no matter what they look like?
 Jan 2017
Walter W Hoelbling
our grandchildren are the reward
for not strangling our teenagers
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