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 Dec 2019
sydney
i laugh at the irony
that love broke my heart.
 Oct 2019
South by Southwest
.

Everytime I hotwired reality

I took a bite out of animosity


I followed all the wrong examples

Danced to the music I didn't know

I never knew the new ground

Before it brought me down


In the end we all dance to the music alone

Twirling until we are nowhere to be found



. . . . dancing our sorrow away . . . .


. . . . all the dying years enthused . . . .


. . . .  in the end keep the fire burning
         in your eyes . . . .


. . . . until the light in you reaches the sky . . . .
 Oct 2019
Dylan McFadden
I don't even know your name,
But I think I know something of
The state of your soul,
My Dear Poet Friend...

For, we're all stricken with
The same disease

A poisonous venom
Which courses,
This very moment,
Through all our veins

A disease for which I have found
But One Cure

---

And I must warn you,
My Dear Poet Friend,
Not to look so long
Into your own heart

For, there you will only find
The disease

.
 Oct 2019
B D Caissie
When fishing, sometimes it's not what you catch, but what one releases while there that makes the trip worthwhile...
 Aug 2019
Bijan Rabiee
I'm not a seasoned poet
As standards go
I have neither the will nor wit
To assemble words that exhale
Sensuous truths of beauty
I have been tossed in poetry's net
To serve and protect its fate
I'm not sharp enough
To detect Moon's climb
For I'm not Archibald MacLeish
I'm no master metaphorician
To equate yellow fog to a cat
For I'm not T.S. Eliot
I'm just here to release the waves
That load my pen to barrage
Their organic ammunition
I cannot delve into the dark show
As smooth as Edgar Allen Poe
I'm not one to sing of love, of wine
For I'm no Rumi nor khayyam
I can't settle music's dust
For I'm not Robert Frost
I can only write what I'm taught
By the shadow rulers of Art
If Yeats is awake
And Shakespeare watching
If Whitman, Dickinson, Keats
And the rest of the sublime ones
Happen to be espying
They would regard me
As an underling
And that would be a win
For I shall never reach
Their poetic spin.
 Aug 2019
Dylan McFadden
Flopping, flipping,
Flattering lips
Are the company
Of fools

Or worse:
A bitter enemy,
Who conceals a heart
So cruel

But words of truth -
Even bold rebukes -  
Do accompany
The wise

They are a friend,
And will find favor in,
The men of
Righteous eyes

.
 Jul 2019
bones
She's an alphabet artist
she paints in words,

from a palette of adjectives,
nouns and verbs,

the landscape she finds
in the folds of her mind

she exhibits in volumes of verse.
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