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 Mar 2019 De Souza
MicMag
Viral
 Mar 2019 De Souza
MicMag
What's it take
These days

To write a poem

That makes the world go mad
That brings the crowds to their feet
That spreads like wildfire
Through a dry winter forest

Is it those excessively long words?
The ostentatiously loquacious
Platitudinous ramblings
Of an insecure mind aspiring
To authentic intellect?

Is it perhaps...
     the "creativity"
               of      varied      spacing
  or...    could it be..... the lack
                              of capitalization
               the loathsome little letters
               screaming out
                         hey, look at us!
         ... or maybe it's
               the punctuation marks,
     littered, haphazardly
          through the text
                    (whether used correctly)
               or, theyre not?!
     despite worrds mispeled
          and a grammar might is broken
   can these gimmicks increase interest
        though miswritten or misspoken?

Is the trick alliteration
Whose bite brightly bids us
To center on the snappy sounds?
Although all along
     unvoiced underneath
Ideas idle in the isles
   (or perhaps the aisles)
Of the mind
To meld and craft and bind
Our thorough thoughts
And worthy words
Into lines
Which
Heard by herds
Raise the
                  Praise for which we
                  Privately, desperately
                  Pray

Maybe it's a magical mix
Of splendid in-your-head rhythm
Marvelous meter that perfectly clicks
Flowing smoothly without schism

Well-spaced stanzas
Well-used time
Well-crafted phrases
Well-thought-out rhymes

Well, maybe not...
     those gems are often ignored
     cast-aside, unread, even abhorred

Why?

Because the modern world
doesn't need your rules
your restrictions
your regulations
your misguided boundaries
your oppression
your antiquated ideas
   of "the right way"
   to write
   to speak
   to act
   to live
   to (fill in the blank)

No, what the modern world needs
is
Negation!
Contradiction!
Resistance!
Revolt!

And poetry whose words
Say the same thing
Repeat the same meaning
Echo the same lyrics
Rephrase the same thoughts
But in an ever-so-slightly
Different
Varied
Altered
Adjusted
Changed up way

Line
After line
Of synonyms
          over
               and
                    over
                         and
                              over
                                   again

-----

What's it take
These days

To not give in
To narcissism's spiral?

But more importantly:
What's it take

To make my poem go viral?
Only halfway cynically written, I swear!
I couldn't breathe.
Like the walls
Were closing in around me.
The air thick with panic.

Then I looked up
And you were there.
I could feel your presence
Wrap around me like a blanket.

And the walls stopped moving.
And the air wasn't so thick.
For the first time
In months
I could finally breathe.
 Feb 2019 De Souza
Cecelia
secrets
 Feb 2019 De Souza
Cecelia
the sunset is bleeding into the room
all the secrets from within
will make themselves known
when the winter breeze comes
and takes you away
2/9/2019
Cecelia C.
-cc
 Feb 2019 De Souza
Willow
It kills me to say

That loving you from afar

Keeps me alive.
A moment to spare

Belongs in your arms

Never to be wasted 

Always to be cherished.

Clocks keep ticking

Hearts keep pounding

Minds keep racing

Dreams keep running.
Clocks keep ticking…
 Feb 2019 De Souza
fearfulpoet
“only” the lonely know (my special sign)

{=}

an incurable silence

the meaningless, wasted touch of a hand,
attached, directed by them from them
to them
a failed reassurance

a classroom, a stadium, cornfield or grove,
so many nutted fallen solitaries fallen to rot
midst a globe of trillions never noticed,
never missed

the silly conceptual that the lonely,
special unique, blessed with a curse,
a specialist status, “only” they afflicted;
with a ken that isolates and yet feels elevated -
oh! I am special

show me one, just one, human who doesn’t truly believe,
they are the onliest loneliest and you will vision
each and every
lonely person who
secret sighs and whose first thoughts are only:

god spare me one more day of being,
fearful of achieving
my very own knowing,
in the invisible place,
the incurable silence award,
reward of another purple heart,
“only” the lonely service ribbon,
my Cain marker

~my special sign~
WOW

what a wonderful reception to my first poem!

thank you,
less fearful!
 Feb 2019 De Souza
eleanor prince
mementos
richly held
hidden in
fractured chest

big people
shifting boxes
heavy
light

silenced
a child's fissure
clasping favourite shell
close

swift salvage
in tight world
rescue from
gaping hole




#family #disruption #moving #treasures #mementos #lost #ignored
For a very young child, moving house can be incredibly bewildering, disruptive, even traumatizing, especially when moving countries tends to mean belongings need to be severely curtailed.  Few remember their own childhood attachments, closely held treasures, even if perceived by harried adults as inconsequential as a bag of broken seashells.  Would a little more listening and empathic explanation with kindness ease things well at such transition times
 Feb 2019 De Souza
Mothsome
Moon
 Feb 2019 De Souza
Mothsome
Sun watches how I lie,
But moon knows why.
We know why we lie.
 Feb 2019 De Souza
nat
blood in my hair
can't really remember
what yr face looks like
makes me sad
but i can't really feel it, y'know?
i love yr sick veins
i hear yr heartbeat in my brain
wish i could feel it
i wish i could feel something at all
i don't know why people like this one so much
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