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 Mar 2020
Francie Lynch
In the North we had the cold war. Sirens screamed; we crouched under desks, thin arms covering thinner heads. We were post Pompeii petrifies waiting for a future dig. We never left an atomic shadow.
This  sums up all life-threatening fears of the Boomers, the Echoes, the A's through Z's. Of course, Boomers then were too young to worry.

We've never had planes or bombs fall from our skies (there was the Arrow disaster).
We've never had a crop blight, famine or drought.
Food has never been rationed.
Hurricanes, cyclones, typhoons or tornados don't happen here;
We get snowfalls we plow through till they melt.
We're non-tsunami. Flooding is seasonal, geographically isolated, and dealt with.
We've had no great fires or earthquakes like San Fran or London.
We've never been drafted, and only go to wars of our own choosing.
We have not been invaded or occupied;
P.E.I. has no extermination crematoriums.
We avoided Inquisitions, Salem witch hunts and Small Pox blankets.
We've had no Race Riots, but a few barricades have gone up and down.

Death comes to us as to all. Car accidents, dumb-*** accidents, and even ******. Though never expected, always anticipated. We grieve, some longer than others. It's not easy, but we manage the shock.

When the glaciers glide past the coast of Nova Scotia, on the way to New York, my generation (and probably yours) will have been replaced.

But now! We're asked to Social Distance and wash with soap and water. In Canada we have plenty of both. I'll occupy my three square feet of space for several weeks (knowing there are only 52 in a year). No complaints. No asinine TP runs. Just behaving myself, HUMANELY.
my generation: Anyone born after 1945 in The North, Canada.
 Mar 2020
Jonesy
How am i?
You want the truth?
I'm broken
Not the type you get when you didn't get your way so you're slightly disappointed. I'm heart broken. My heart is aching deep inside my chest, it trembles because it's now coming to terms with what my brain already knows.
How am i?
I am in pain ...
I have alot of physical ailments but nothing, nothing at all compares to crying yourself to sleep, waking up from sleeping crying, going through your day crying. I've cried for 3 days now.
How am i?
I'm trying to be strong.
Why?  I know if you knew how I really feel you'll be devastated so I lie, I tell you I'm doing okay, I'm great, fantastic...while  having..tears on my cheeks....so you can focus on you. I went to school trying to hide my tears but then I saw my friend and I broke down. I actually gripped at my heart and I told her it hurts soooo bad. My heart was beating like normal but yet it hurt so bad. I cried so much that I accepted it, class mates passed me and asked "Are you ok?" I said "I'm great, ignore the tears I have allergies".
How am i?
I'm hurt.
So so so so so so hurt. You wanted to stop hurting me so much that you decided to break my heart instead. I hate you for that.  You promised me you wouldn't break my heart. Then why am I crying everyday, why does my heart ache, why am I not eating....why am I in such pain.....why do I feel so.... empty.
How am I?
I don't know.
I'm so many things yet nothing all at once.
I wouldn't wish heart break on an enemy if I had any.
It's painful...no one deserves to feel like they're nothing,...
No one deserves to feel broken.




                                                     ­               Jonesy 2020 (c)
This poem is in the form of a journal entry. A story of a girl who is coming to grips with being broken.
 Jan 2020
Ady
what was i supposed to be?
imploded stardust, floating aimlessly across
the universe expanding, never minding
cruelty escaping, dissipating,
evaporating,
but i can't be nothing if i was something,
laws of conservation of energy rejecting
my lack of preservation.

i want liquid gold inside my veins,
ruptured mind, kaleidoscope bones
creaking in the night.

i'm lost, florescent daylight  
cold and grim, fabricated and burning my retinas
an eight hour parable trying, to stay afloat
but coming home and wishing dark behind
eyelids; burnt.

what was i supposed to be?
sunshine reflected on flowers
warm and liquid, amber in the windows
dripping, pain immersed in honey
making the best out of a leak flowing
endlessly through the tap,
my kitchen sink old but practical.

i was supposed to be me,
whatever that may be.
 Aug 2019
S Smoothie
You pushed me down

So I did the deed

I got out so you couldn't see me bleed

I left you a goodbye note

Something simple i wrote

Ambiguous but cool

The egg on your face like a fool

I left nothing but vacant space

But they read between the spaces

They looked in all the places

Their shock was mandatory

Bad news travels fast

And now I am the first pick

Where once I was the last

They miss me

And I miss them

But I sure as hell won't miss you ****.
 Jul 2019
William A Poppen
To follow her is to
Twist and turn through life

Attempt to squirm free
And once more
her exotic scent
captivates you

At least your suffering
Is keen and intense

Every physical contortion
Only constricts her hold

Most predict despite
Numerous gyrations
The end will be catastrophic
*Merriam-Webster word for the day, April 24, 2019
funny...
i was once thought that,
when i tried to swallow the pen and papers,
i will be able to write
without using my hand.

but i was wrong.

because every time you reminded me
that i don't know how to write,
reality will criticize me that
i am illiterate in fighting
in this mess up world.

illiterate.

an illiterate person who don't how to use
guns and swords in fighting
for the freedom of mind.

i am in masked.

a masked person
because  i tried to swallow
the words that persist to
pressed inside my mind that
"i am already lost even if the
fight is not yet started".

© IGMS
ill
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