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 Jul 26
Dr Peter Lim
Wherever you are
         let your thoughts be pure:
         good Karma you'll attract
         that's the outcome for sure
When a detective falls in love, he does not know who to bill for expenses--
everything is up in the air.

At a mixer for suspects, he invites me to dance via loudspeaker.
Radiant in my white dress, I resemble a snowy owl
even down to my carefully bandaged hand which he takes without hesitation.
I whisper in his ear:

I am Leon Czolgosz.
Your heart is the President of the United States of America.
We are dancing in Buffalo, city by the Niagara.
My detective, of course, falls hard.

The next time we meet, I wait for him in the bullpen at the police station.
They know him there.
They hire cellists.
He confesses his deepest fantasy to me:

I want to speak words of love to you
via telephone
with our hands naked and separated only by the safety glass.
I want the call recorded
and broadcast to wild lovers around the globe.

Shortly after, we are married. I wear my favorite bearskin robe.
My small black cubs frolic nearby,
climbing the pews and then tumbling gaily down again.
My detective is resplendent in his tuxedo.
The hired band plays Funiculi Funicula.
I snarl when my detective gets too close to the cubs, and this inflames him.

At last, we lie in bed together, like busy machines come to rest.
I am wearing nothing but the revolver-shaped earrings he has given me.
My detective wears a felt fedora
and a look of smug adoration like a daredevil over the falls in a barrel.
I am The Queen of the Mist,
suspected in various thieveries, check kiting, and jaywalking.

Our love is an aviary
where birds wheel above the thundering water like intelligent confetti.
Look in your mailbox, I tell my detective.
I have left you a valentine and an Easter egg.
He asks if, after all, I am his mystery client.
I enter a plea of innocent.
My love is happy now, laughing.
These stories were ours.

Meant for you and me.
Reader and writer.
Not divine, not secret, but still sacred.

They were already shared.  
But never with her.
Never for Fate.

This story, this grief.
It was never hers to interpret.
And yet she reached in.

She stole verses I gave to you.
She twisted what was ours,
Into something she could sing for herself.

These are the pieces she dug out.
What was previously shared,
Now tainted by her intrusion.

They were torn out from their homes,
And stitched where they did not belong,
Not by my choice,

But by her trespass.



x https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5066755/nightmare/

x https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5021519/prestige/

x https://hellopoetry.com/collection/136316/suppressium-the-dignicide-doctrine/

x https://hellopoetry.com/collection/136315/mistys-journey/

x https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5034083/blood-upon-the-sunrise/

x https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5046928/the-answer-shall-be-revealed/

x https://hellopoetry.com/collection/136318/****-me-kindly/

x https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5037300/we-got-green-eyes/

x https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5036128/do-you-praise-the-sword-or-the-man/

x https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5044542/shoot-shoot-shoot/

x https://hellopoetry.com/collection/136317/diamond-devil-vs-iron-angel/



But she did not stop there,
No.
She pried beyond what was spoken.

She infiltrated beyond what was documented.
She didn't stop at memory.
She wanted what hadn't become language yet.

These stories were mine.
Unwritten, unfinished, unposted.
Still fluid within the shelter of thought.


Still private.
Still alive.


But she couldn't wait,
To pull threats from the mind,
To taint not just the lesson,

But the source.

Now she knows what even you don't.
She has seen what has yet to be shared.
Not as a privilege,

As a threat.



So if you, reader, choose to stay,

Do so as one who understands the gravity of patience.
This is not entertainment.
This is reclamation.

At least, it is the attempt.
Because success is not guaranteed,
When she is still listening.

So then, let this be a warning.


In the chaos of your ideas,
And the silence between your thoughts,
Beware what parasites may linger.

If you think your mind is private,
Yours alone,
You may be mistaken.


Neither reality nor fiction,
Has a right,
To invade your mind.

Yet both,
Will do whatever it takes,
To steal it for themselves.



Learn from my mistakes.

You can't keep her out.
She will force her way in.

Fate is already looking through your eyes.
All she needs now is your voice.


So when all else is taken,
When she occupies your mind,
Speak from your thoughts,

Not hers.


Don't lend your voice to anyone.
You can't help but think others' thoughts,
But you had better speak your own words.
This intermission serves as optional context for Paralogue D (https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5099132/wont-you-bear-with-me-through-this-moment-of-weakness/).


We will soon return, to the story, of 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.


https://hellopoetry.com/collection/136314/the-wings-of-waiting/
 Jul 23
Anais Vionet
When I’m not tapped into a music stream.

I like quiet
no - let’s be exact,
I like silence
ear plugs in - deafening quiet
or better yet, noise cancelled anti-sound
That’s relatively new technology
My mom mentioned new studies suggest it may rewire things
gray matter wise, you know, behind the eyes
like the patterns sound forms in sand.

But if you’re going to scramble my mind
your going to have to wait in line behind
bland 21-year-old issues like:
sleep deprivation
hormonal fluctuations
romantic fog
case study competitions
business model design games (REALGAME)
deductive logic puzzles
irritability and mood swings
mental bandwidth anxiety
cognitive confusion
information overload
assignment stress
premenstrual syndrome
compulsive coping mechanisms
career anxiety
****** frustration
multitasking shifts (schedule)
canon events (existential dilemmas)
culture shock (new environment)
feeling “scrambled”
family pressures

So, yeah. let’s fn Jettison headphone worries - MOM - shall we??!
.
.
Right Now by The Creatures
A Girl In Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing) by Romeo Void
Your Turn to Run by Malaria!
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 07/22/25:
Jettison = get rid of something that’s weighing you down.
 Jul 23
Stardust
"They’re from another country."
"But… they’re people too, aren’t they?"
"Yeah, but not our people."
 Jul 22
jules
You touched me,
and I remembered how stars bleed
before they die.
 Jul 22
Olivia Williams
I am igniting fire--flame.
You tried to test me,
Causing pain.
It is you--who I blame
Based off of "That" day
I Don't belong here
Pain is what I feel
Anger will not heal
Pain is Part of me it  shows all of me
People made scars on me
wounds hurts alot,  at the end it distroys the soul of me
I guess Paitence is the Key
It will change everything I see
Fake PeoPle all around me
Pretending loving me
Judging, hurting and crushing me
-Not a poet Just struggling
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