Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 May 31
Francie Lynch
Some people can wait
     Before they die;
Hold on for a loved one
     To say Good-bye.
To have one more Spring,
     Or any Season,
For Love or Closure,
     This we reason.
Now many can leave
     This coil of doubt,
Guilty they heard,
     On all thrity-four counts.
All praise to the New York Justice System. Well-done.
 May 7
Francie Lynch
Who waters dead plants?
Who pumps air into tires with holes?
Who spits into the wind?
Who swims against the current?
Who presses the walk button at intersections?
Who clicks BBQ tongs to make sure they work?
Who hits the save button more than once?
Who kills puppies?
Kristi Noem.
 Feb 26
Dark n Beautiful
Psalm 90:6
in the morning it springs up new, but by evening it fades and withers.

When my heart returns in the seclusion,

I uttered these words to myself,

Give it time, be wise, embrace self-compassion

I must put myself first, I must, I must,  

This time around, I don't want to walk away,

Taste only me, make love to only me
Reflected only in my space.
enchantment leads to my dearest delight
enter my soul before the break of dawn

A dream within a dream according to Edgar Allan Poe

For our morning blessing/
Happy or sad, our morning salutations/
There is nothing more appealing  
Than seeing white undershirts and white teeth
as it captures the youth of innocent,  
falling in love, with a cub, half my age,  

A trickery of unfocused emotions bearing down.  

I can see no flaws,  
I see only what my heart allows,

Trembling lips, both top and bottom
gazing into those eyes of witchery illusions

Just this once, just feed me, just enter my soul  

This frigid northern cold, the Africa heat rises:
Who will bless this union?
When it all fades like leaf

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.

Let me love you for now,

Let me smile, while you smile,

aloud me, to accept you,

as you enter my soul
 Feb 10
SE Reimer
a tribute


in fading sepia we find,
the romance of
another time;
albums filled
with black and white,
of glossy faces
burnt in fading light;
boxes of our ko-dak-chro-ments,
gone-by treasures,
wistful years once crystal clear,
mem’ries drowned in haze,
resurface now,
renewed in tears, we remember well.

the yellow ribbons tied,
’round an ol’ oak tree;
anxious waiting to make an “us”,
the anticipation of a “he and me”;
until the news from distant shore,
yet another casualty of war,
and now remains but this,
a marble slab inscribed,
in accolades of former glory,
merely remnants ’midst the pines;
on forest lawn where promises,
tween two for’er became untwined, she remembers well.

so many are the ways
the mem’ry onward lives
even this, a,
“do this in...” request
restores a covenant anew
a "remembrance of..."
the “we” here left behind,
be it in the bread we break,
this forever to remind,
a sacrosanct entreaty made,
promise sealed as blood in wine,
reserving not for deities alone,
but given us immortal souls,
to us a gift at birth,
of staggering import,
responsibility of heavy worth;
of after-ashes keeping still,
an ever-after captured with
the shutter, brush and quill, we remember well.

its keeping cherished lovingly
though its loss,
its diminishment bereaved;
as lovers silent grieve,
those lost to us yet breathe,
in memories ’midst the breeze.
forgetful of the slightest
until one day in finality
their mortal soul is set free
into immortality. for’er remember.

to us, a call, a charge,
a “ne’er forget”
a duty large
a “do this in
remembrance of”
this our promise
to e’er remember,
always keep;
forgetting never,
to carry the flame,
while we yet live
in sunshine’s grip;
an oath is sworn,
that forever we,
shall always ready be,
for in remembering best,
the tears flow easily,
and so it isn't pity,
of a loss i seek,
for ’tis in finding memory
that i shall always weep, i remember well.


post script.

of love lost in the haze of war; of lives changing motion, a baby is born, as a grandmother moves into memory care... a cycle of life, brought full circle best in remembrance.  and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!” and so we line our shelves, our walls with them, visiting inscribed stones behind fences.  

dedicated today to our memories each of loved ones, lovers lost; but on this dark eve, especially those who lost those souls, three thousand strong, a darkest day of remembrance, this September the eleventh, who never got to say goodbye... so we remember well!
 Jan 26
There was the time before you. When I was free in my endeavor's.

Then the time during you. When everything became unfathomable. And I  wanted to spend every waking moment with you.

Then there was the time after you. When? It does not matter, because you are gone.

And I am done.
 Jan 19
The child in me asks
Will we ever find passion
She had big dreams
and was determined to aim for them.

The adult me feels sad
She doesn't know what to say
How do you explain pain,
How do you explain disappointment?
I've been trying to do the inner child work in therapy, but it's really confusing. I find myself always listening to something to avoid the voice.
 Jan 10
Dark n Beautiful
We stare into the ceiling without looking at each other

Slowly you place your hands between my legs of burning desire,

I saw a portrait of your youth, as the silence engulf us:

My guilty pleasure, your disobedient hands,  

In a few hours you will become a man.

I didn’t cause this silence; our hearts were entwining (:)

My guilty pleasure, the portrait of your youth

A mother’s warmth, or just a cougar fantasy

Who made all the rules, society or us

The hearts asked for pleasure first,  

Then comes the sacrament of confession.  

my African prince of Lloren, Kwara, my vision

I will not accept that one and one should be two

A double plantain so jointly attached is still one

Love is not a substance, but at times comes off as one.

Therefore, from this day forward

I will treat love like a commodity  

Basis facts my guilty pleasure, your disobedient hands

Manly as ever, one day you will be my man. (:)  

As we walk the sandy beaches of Togo:

Just remember, one plus one doesn't add to two:
 Dec 2023
The weekend is only two days away,
Throughout the week my heart aches.
I'm sick of society, expectations and pressure
All I want to do is to leave for an adventure.

Where would I go? If the opportunity arose,
I think I'd go everywhere, searching for home.
No where has ever felt like one for me,
I've always had issues with how I'm perceived.

I have moments where I wonder who will leave,
and who will stay after seeing my true face.
Some people have become sick of my ways
And left before seeing that we aren't the same.

It surprised me and I felt betrayed,
The pain that comes along with goodbye
Is almost as bad as the silence that subsides
after rain has fallen all night.
I never know what to name my poems anymore
 Dec 2023
words like teeth without roots
hands emptied of dreams
oh, the hideous pride of a bit
to be all

I've decided
so limp and stuttering
as I am
to face despair as stones face
the wind's breath
my hands put new letters into words
in these words that are old barrels
in which they keep distilling
the pain of the world
 Nov 2023
Francie Lynch
Shoes of all colours and sizes
Shuffle by my North American Middle Class House.
We are temperate, they walk in all seasons,
Down here, between the Great Lakes.
These S-Westerners look haggard;
Even the young...
All waiting... waiting for the veil to lift.
Smiles are cracking, making new lines
Like road maps to happiness.
And yet, it's worse
In Talibexas, Loseiana and Floridistan,
Where there are fewer paths.
Next page