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 Jun 2017
Elizabeth Squires
a wonderful poetess friend
I did happen upon
she has a welcoming heart
ever to don

twas fated that we became
the very best of sisterly mates
there's such a genuine nature
in her soul's sates

I speak
of a true
one who
I implicitly
I speak
of a true
with qualities
that are a

dear Winn is an awesome
kind of gal
and I'm so thrilled having her
as my American pal
 Jun 2017
Mike Adam
I shall be sleeping soon

And you

So sorry to bring
This news

But I shall be sleeping soon

With you
 Jun 2017
Mike Adam
The plunge into silence

Only a gong-

Gentle reminder
Of world beyond-

Of sound
 Jun 2017
Harry clute
Titles that entangle others pain a silent suffering upon those without voices while others in powerful places cause extreame in justice upon those who's tears are never heard a sick cycle that in chains those in poverty until one of many gather inside the foundations of truth
 Jun 2017
Harry clute
Darker shades lyeing quietly like sleeping ***** before the hunt before the feast begins a savage connection like tress helplessly rooted inside the belly of a storm before thunder gives its first roar violence that destroys then lends the solutions of survival
 Jun 2017
Arcassin B
By Arcassin Burnham

No toss and turn but sleep is lost,
I live to trust myself and the ones I love,
But you gotta learn to take a loss,
For everything in this world has a cost,

You know me from distant memory,
If you were my enemy I trust you less,
So not what you appear to be,
The epitome of vanity,
A lost hope to a broken dream,
Your mad at me but you ruined your life by parenting,
And even in the darkest days,
I still wanna have all the times of my life,

To look back and say I shouldn't stay,
I couldn't find the truth on the brightest day,
In knowing that would be okay,
I just headed for a lil delay,

Tough today , and then tough days ahead,
To sin and then be sinned on is hard to maintain,
Any day I could've just been dead,
Either by a random mugger or a racist fed,
And even in the darkest days,
I still wanna have all the times of my life,

I just wanna get away from here,
Not just here but out of this world as well,
See fear in every corner here..
There are no guns in where I wanna go.
 Jun 2017
Willy Shakysphere
One evening, while going to a small concert being held at Martini’s,
I was just entering the door of the establishment when a woman
Was coming out in a rush with tears in her eyes.
I moved as quickly to one side as I could - to give her free passage.
She did the same only to the same side as I and in a most compromising
Manner we solidly ran our two heads together with a thud.
She immediately jumped to the other side to get out of the door.
It seemed as if I were as unlucky as she for as she sprang to one side, so did I -
A second time, and a third – as if I were intentionally trying to block her way.
It was ridiculous and though she smiled through her tears I felt so unbelievably
Inadequate to move anywhere, so finally I just stood still so she could pass.
But the guilt of those tears beckoned me that this literal bumping into each other
Was not by mere chance, so much so that I now had not a reason to see the concert.
So I stepped back out of the doorway and followed her with my eye
As she made her way down the sidewalk.
She looked back at me twice looking like she was running away from me.
To anyone else who might have been watching it might have seemed
As if I were the transgressor and indeed one woman
Entering Martini’s gave me a look of scorn as if I
Were the reason for the woman’s tears.
I shook my head trying to say, “No, it isn’t me,” but it seemed
A futile plea to her as she had condemned me already.
But whether I was to blame or not mattered little
Because as a human being - did I not have the duty to reach out
To any creature who might be in distress?
I made a thought in my head that said that I should apologize
So I started out after her – no that’s not the correct translation –
I lit out after her, whoever she was, hoping that I could be of some assistance.

When I had caught up to her she was standing on the corner hailing a cab.
It was dark and she was dressed all in black and every cab that passed
Acted as if she were invisible.
It was beginning to rain and as I stepped up next to her I took off
My coat and wrapped it around her which at first startled her.
Then I begged her forgiveness for the earlier incident, trying to
Explain that I was merely trying to get out of her way.
She answered that she too was guided by the same intention
Towards me and she said that it was her fault and not mine.
So we reciprocally and sufficiently apologized and thanked
Each other until I saw a cab approaching from down the street.
I stepped out onto the street and whistled at the cabbie and
The driver quickly pulled up beside us.
I opened the back door to the cab and handed her in it
While she squirmed and removed my coat handing it back to me.
One of the buttons on my coat was steadfast hung in her black sweater
And as we both tried to free the button – our heads butted again.
We both laughed as I said that this was the fourth time that our heads
Had met each other tonight.
She put her lips to my ear and whispered,
“I wish to heaven that you would make me a fifth bumping.”
She moved over in the seat and I joined in beside her thinking
How life is too short to be long about the forms of it.
 Jun 2017
And just breathe
I wasn't really
Going to leave
Tomorrows come
And love forgives
Besides, I have no
Where else to live
And in these days
Of reasonable doubts
Of who we are
Despite ourselves
I'll still be here
In words that rhyme
Trying my hardest
To make you mine
Traveler Tim
 Jun 2017
Elizabeth Squires
the membership weren't aware
of this particular disclosure
but the due time has come
for an open exposure

poet Stephan is poet Jack
in his alternate gown
the probity of the facts
so precisely noted down

a revelation shocking
is herein told
of the twin persona's
acting too bold
 Jun 2017
SG Holter
I am writing this as
I stand -beer in hand- watching
Neil Gaiman being

Interviewed on stage in
Oslo. He has more to say
Than many, to poets

And those living lives; others.
"Writing is like composting.  
You have an idea. You

Leave it to rot... and
Things will grow
From it."
Oslo. May 26th, 19.27ish, 2014.
 Jun 2017
Mike Adam
I  smell the earth
In your words
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