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 Mar 2017
Walter W Hoelbling
we know
     we will die one day
but we don't believe it
knowing believing
 Mar 2017
Ola Radka
I placed
my dreams
up in the sky.

They fly
with birds
and take
my soul
up
high.

Where I feel
no pain
and all
the limitations
wane.

I let myself
feel free
and
be whoever
I want
to be.
 Mar 2017
Gidgette
We're sand, you know
Slipping through splayed fingers
Our hearts,
Are but ash filled bubbles
Carried upon the lilac,
rough winds of May
Blown by peach faced children
Sensitive to the human touch
Grasped too hard,
And a poets heart
Will burst
Should we fall,
As we so often do
We can't be caught
Promiscuous in our words
Faithful, in our dreams
We,
Ash filled bubbles
Eternally in May and lilac~A
I Love You All and that's all I have to say of that.<3
Deft hands cut precise whirrs the ceiling fan
closed eyes bar view the scene can't scan
before they reach the ground take windy spin
falling in scattered piles gathered for coffin.

Shreds of gray and black dot the white shroud
little to write about nothing to be proud
don't reduce anymore that's about fine
add not to the growing woes says hairline.

Cool the clime crawls the clock at its own pace
halts the head to think about the changing face
would it look better or yield a worse clown
ridiculed by one and all folks of the town.

Nothing can be done enough damage is done
fiercely to blow the heat waits fiery sun
over sir says barber open my eyes
the one in the mirror doesn't look any wise.
At the Barber's, Feb 19, 2017, 10.30 am.
(pardon my liberty with the spelling of the title)
 Mar 2017
chimaera
my shadow
unfolded,
captive
of a blind night.

dazed,
straying,
time feeds on days,
unanchored.
15.01.2016
 Mar 2017
Onoma
Being slowly stripped

of obsessive compulsion,

unable to creature the habits of X--

its greater pains taken by

pains taken.

Volitional deductions, and

inferences...alibis and motives

scarring a madman's template.

Ram-shouldered entries

through paper thin doors, in response

to off color remarks on his meta-physique.

Isn't nature self-regulating, why shouldn't

it produce freaks of like control?

To assemble variables thereof, Warholian

assembly lines stockpiling non perishables

for unseen disasters.

To man, to woman the reins is a most

satisfying illusion...spurring on the tramping boisterousness.

We like formalities, dress rehearsals, the arteries

of maps...to run our fingers down,

nonplussed by their pulse.

We know that we don't know, today the weathermen

completely butchered the forecast, of this wouldbe

blizzard.

Time is already filtering their accountability.
 Mar 2017
Denel Kessler
fallow winter does not bring
peace to the restless soul
finger-licked, waiting
on subtle winds shifting
for the tropical taste
of exotic droplets of rain
a salt-stained remembrance
in this time of dreaming

red-light ladies hatch
in raftered minds
a mass awakening
beneath hardened shell
freedom awaits wings
a collective opening
an essential
transformation
 Mar 2017
Isabelle
•••
Three words
“What about us??"
Four words
*“It ends with us."
it ends with us..
 Mar 2017
K Balachandran
In an old teapot,
simmers the tea of many thoughts,
zen tea for us all.
Bring down the internecine heat,
rearing to go an d  blow up all things  good
with  thoughts sane and balanced..
 Mar 2017
JDK
Your rough edges have all been ground down.
Calm little pebble, you're so smooth now.

Easy come and easy go.
Things used to be hard.

Feels like forever ago.
Already.
 Mar 2017
nivek
Breaking up concrete with a jackhammer
was strangely rewarding.
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