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 Mar 23
Francie Lynch
Yes, I'm the husband.
You need to treat me as such.
Like Ward Cleaver.
Don't condescend, ridicule, or find fault
In little things.
Am I to ingest this drivel
Till I technocolor burp?
I wait for a thaw or a thigh;
A small smile would register on the Richter.
In my house there are many rooms
For a Piata, a David,
But Moses has reign,
Coming down Sinai.
Thou shalt have no false gods before me.
I was a believer,
Before I did,
Before I do.
Today I am an agnostic and an atheist.
I do not believe in sanctity
Or forgiveness.
I sow what I have reaped.
 Mar 9
Francie Lynch
Lou left!

It was an unexpected cataclysm;
A rogue wave in my face;
A flapping jib in the lightning;
A broken string
As I began Yesterday.

Today, I read his life's history,
His likes and loves.
I will replace that string,
And finish the song.
Before I forget,
Before too long;
For I was his mate
In many a storm.
Lou Spizziri: 1951-2024
 Mar 3
guy scutellaro
heavy rain from a darkening sky
and buildings  fall

no one knows what will be left
running down the nowhere
where dreams die
on a metal tray
at the hospital morgue

trouser leg pushed up
the search for black ink
and a child's name
begins

perhaps the arm
the hip

the back?

and the children plead,
lie to me,
tell me,
i won't die,
today

and the silent screams
are left in an eternity of why?

foul and bitter hearts
will prevail
on both sides,
this is the poetry of death
 Feb 24
Farah
a trail of darkness
left behind

whispers of oblivion surround me
as I rummage through the shadows
to find her bows, black as the sky
it's all she left behind

will I ever find her?
will the light lead me to her?
 Feb 14
Francie Lynch
There was once a time of quietude.
If I said something;
Showed you something,
Or did something; and,
If it was warm and loving,
Interesting or whimsial,
Controversial or agreeable,
You might nod, shake your head,
Sigh,
Maybe gesture with a hand-
Yes or No or Maybe.

I'm reading.
There's too  much noise.
Some friends, many strangers,
Laughing... loudly...
Out loud;
Smiling, hugging, liking, Wowing, loving, tsking. crying...
So much emotion.
I can hear them.

Not long ago,
But mostly gone,
Like silent films
It was quiet.
LOL WOW *** :)
 Feb 14
Francie Lynch
If not this week,
Then next.
If not this year,
Then next.
              
This year.
                  Next year.
Some year.
                  Not never.

What is time? Space?
Will it matter?
 Feb 13
ThePoet
4:21am,
and I’m not sure where the hours went
Wondering if it’s worth it all,
all of the wasted time spent?
Struggling to keep myself around
Plummeting deep into the ground
The line I crossed is where I’m bound
A game of lost and never found

4:32am,
and I’m not sure when it started
Wondering if I deserve it all,
whatever left me broken hearted?
A shallow rise for a deeper low
If I swallow lies then I can’t let go
It’s always yes when it should be no
But I reminisce what I used to know

4:43am,
and I’m not sure how it ended
Wondering if I divert it all,
will I come out the other side mended?
I hide in thoughts buried in my head
Live inside the plots I made up instead
I can’t revive when I know I’m dead
And I won’t survive in the life I’ve led

4:54am,
and I’m not sure if I’m myself again
Wondering if I revert it all,
can I go back in time before it all began?
I knew it’s wrong but it felt too right
I grew so strong but I lost the fight
Intertwined with the depths of night
It’s where I find just a glimmer of light

The silence is deafening when it makes a sound

©
 Feb 6
Francie Lynch
I add one word: Let the [orange] blowt king tempt you again...
Hamlet IV, iii: "Let the blowt king tempt you again..."

The Republican Party is a living Tragedy.
 Jan 30
KarmaPolice
I'm hidden by barriers
That you cannot see
I'm trapped and alone
But you can see me

I'm muted by noise
That you cannot hear
My screams fall silent
I'm frozen in fear

The pressure builds
My mind is racing
You fail to see
The struggles I'm facing

The room is spinning
My heart's beating fast
Thoughts creeping in
How long will they last?

I sit here vacant
I'm traumatised
I failed to answer
You.... recognised

Pounding your desk
Screaming my name
Jumbled words
Repeating again

I don't know the answer
I want to reply, but..
I keep blanking out
I can't explain why

In front of the class
You call out my name
"I've told you twice..
I'm not explaining again!"

I'm hidden by the barriers
That you cannot see
I'm trapped and alone
Until quarter past three

By Darren Wall
 Jan 9
Francie Lynch
It's awe inspiring.
It's wonderous.
I truly believe.
I'm IN.
                                        but

I do wonder.
Doubt creeps in.
Then thought.
Now insight.
Now I don't.
I'm OUT!
 Jan 6
Syd
Grayscale life
stale cardboard bread
lonely nights and years
in a barren double bed

Penicillin dust
lines a heavy chest
cholesterol, palpitations
lipid level function tests

Morose Mondays
robotic ragemes
jaundiced skin
decaying dreams

Mildew eyeballs
cast a sour stare
piercing the haze
of electric blue air

Creaking joints
fading looks
granet heels carved from
ill fitting safety boots

With cold clay
a soul was environed
forging rhymes
from cold pig iron
March 22.
 Jan 4
Samara
threads of violins
shredded by violence
to stop the song of sirens
shrieking on the live wire.
it's twisted by air not felt
underwater
& captured by flash bulbs
that blind not deafen
- - -
suddenly we begin witnessing:
the tides are shifting
the tides are shifting

I care not about the words
spoken
Nor the one's laid down on page
I long ago got over myself
and the antics of my rage
They seem to be valueless
in the scrapped scope of paradise
I will take the offer given
and let the advice suffice
Poets don't live in mansions
Nor on rheams , nor texts or screens
They occupy the inner works of imaginations and all that it will bring
People don't pay for poets
nor feed their desperate ego
They just steal a line or perhaps a quote just to prove that they must know
At least songs have a memory with words dripping in notes for coats
So much easier to swallow
Not like the paper that chokes
So next time you say heh listen
I'll turn my head and flee
For it must be another attack of killer poetry
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