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 May 2020
Carlo C Gomez
The big man upstairs
Once and for all
Disabused me of the notion
That he was in fact
God himself

And just my landlord
Living on the top floor
Yelling at me
Through the wall
That my rent is overdue
BLT's new challenge- to write a poem using the Merriam- Webster word of the day, disabuse.
 May 2020
annh
'Actually, my friend in Taranaki makes the stars. I combine them with my own elements and string them into garlands,' wrote Makery. There was an element of apology about her words. As if she’d been rumbled. As if someone had confirmed the voice of self-doubt that whispered in her ear, 'Who do you think you are, calling yourself an artisan?'

Stringing things together is applied artistry - whether it be words, Scandi-style stars, or fairytale mushrooms threaded on candy coloured twine. We are all hunter-gatherers who construct our creations from discovered elements. Some transmute received knowledge into constructed knowledge. Others beachcomb lexica for found syncretic treasures. All aspire to contribute to the infinite compendium of human self-expression, to create something which says, 'This is who I am.' With the silent addendum, 'I hope you like it.'

'Creating is living doubly. The groping, anxious quest of a Proust, his meticulous collecting of flowers, of wallpapers, and of anxieties, signifies nothing else.'
- Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays
 May 2020
beth fwoah dream
the lochs on the mead
the love on the land
the hope and the truth
the pretty pretty love
the sunshine and the flower
the glass and the glow
the meadows and the lark
the wonder and the blow.
ancient histories, old songs now remembered. loving you,  in love with my ian
 May 2020
Nola
And ill snap, my own neck
Hang the noose
From the ceiling to my back
Slit my wrists
With a dull of a knife
Blood spilling from my vains
Finally i feel fine
 Apr 2020
Dark n Beautiful
Billy don’t be a hero

Fear the unknown, fear the weapon
In all of my life on this earth,
I have never been into a store
And there was no toilet Paper
Is it a diarrhea epidemic?

We do not fear the unknown.
We fear what we think we know about the unknown.” – Teal Swan.

It was the empty shelves,
where the toilet papers stood before

It scared me. So many times
I walked those aisles
And fret at the prizes of the toiletries,
Would the thicker paper clogged my toilet
Would the thin sheet break easily?
Was it precaution, or prevention?

Fear the unknown, deal with the epidemic
My cousin, announced yesterday
She was tested positive, with the unknown
She seem hopeful, she seem fearless,
She believes in resurrection:
she believes in the scriptures

I do believe in not trying to be Billy the hero
I am a poet, not a hero with great noble’s qualities,
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