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Look in the mirror
Don’t look beyond
It’s you
Practice and perfect
Your moves
The eyes that you set on
Is all yours to behold
Believe
In
Your inner strength
Radiance of the soul
Revealed


🔆🔆🔆
 Feb 2021 Doy A
Jason
Overcast and delicious
Wonderful yet suspicious
Flowers blooming
In a sky without blue
And even the grass is
Shining like new

On a bed of ash
I dance with the flames
I'd tell you again
But it's all in the name

My hands grow tired
From tending the fire
But the highest of heights
Exists to inspire

Passion drifts by
Feelings so high
I can't help but notice
The pain in my side

Destruction so swift
Catches my eye
Helpless and ******
I let it slip by

I'm sure that they know
Facts left in tow

Frailty is shattered
Mindless and battered
I reach for my faith
To withdraw scattered

Ages of time are
Sprinklings of dust
Seduced by sound
And tempted by lust

Why free the soul
To shackle the mind
Taken as whole
Cast out as swine

Show me the way
Pointless to say
In a box to exist
A strange-fated twist

Wanting to feel
A feeling of want
Questions and answers
Dance about and taunt
©1997 Jason R. Michie All Rights Reserved
 Feb 2021 Doy A
Amanda Kay Burke
Do I still take your breath away or has that power expired?
Leave me to my own devices because I’m growing tired
And for a little while you lead me to believe you’re done
Until the moment I start losing interest in which direction your feet run
And I say I no longer care but we both know it isn’t true
Honestly I do not give a ****...
About anything except you
The only thing ricocheting against my set of bones
Is your name bouncing like drumsticks on xylophones
For once I get to perform our song
Music to my lonely ears
Skeleton an instrument producing every note brain hears
Have my mutilated perception record melody
When finished play it over so I can sing off-key
And leave on your doorstep to remind you of what we had
When I am done realize I still feel just as sad
And screams bottled up press on the walls of my insides
Threatening to expose the place heartache hides
Slide shapeless secrets even deeper down the *****
Drowning damaged moments in a mess of distraction and dope
One
Two
Three
I count numbers to ground racing thoughts
Break the anxious flow in a failed attempt to untangle mental knots
I will go to extreme lengths to relieve madness in my mind
Waiting for comfort desperately needed but can never seem to find
And my own flesh torments with mocking memories
Using tattooed ink for leverage to ridicule and tease
A traitor amongst body parts equally writhing in despair
Breath inhaling solitude coursing through the stagnant air
Lifeless eyes exhausted from overwhelming cruelty they view
You put up careful facades but ******* is easy to see through
X-rays of faithful adoration reveal commitment a disguise
Well-rehearsed remorse when stripped is nothing more than lies
And crumpled promises fill the trash can with empty words you said
Same old disappointment cuts
Blood staining hands bright red
Stomach full of excuses violently crammed down my throat
Those plus dead butterflies swell causing my tummy to bloat
My heart now lies in throbbing pieces scattered across bottom of my soul
In the exact spot you used to reside within my chest is now an unfathomable hole
This one needed to get out of my broken *** heart
 Feb 2021 Doy A
basil
desculpa
 Feb 2021 Doy A
basil
i watched your hair grey
before i learned your mother tongue

you were filled with all the warmth of the brazilian sun
but i can't form the words to tell you that

eu espero que vocé me perdoe
my stupid keyboard put the wrong accent over the e in 'voce' which is ironic. it would be funny if i wasn't so sad.

i miss you, maria </3
 Oct 2020 Doy A
Whit Howland
Your note
handwritten
in pink pen

on coarse
and crumpled
scratch paper

"Are you okay
lately
you seem kinda distant"

if not then
I'll say it now

I'm so sorry
I must have been
lost

in the weeds of thought
and tangled
in overthinking

thank you for your
gentle hand
and firm grip

Whit Howland © 2020
 Jul 2020 Doy A
Don Bouchard
The questions exist:
Whether lock down in this space
Preserves the life or just saves face?;
Why quarantine locks healthy up
While hellions riot and disrupt?

She's 92 and all alone
Stuck inside a nursing home
"No visitors," the Guvner said,
And fear became the COVID dread.

"Bring out your bodies!"
"Bring out the dead!"

She walks a bit from bed to door,
Must wear a mask, if nothing more.

Alone, she rests, though it's a chore
To see faceless helpers on her floor.
Her handlers? Gowned, masked, and visored
As if she's the one who's virus scoured.

"How will I speak my 3000 words a day?"
My mother asked on the phone today.
"Speak now to me," I edged words in,
And listened to my Mom, cooped in.

If COVID doesn't **** her, empty hallways might;
She tries to speak to anyone who passes nigh,
But they are in a hurry to cancel someone's light,
And so the nights and days go crawling by.

"Bring out your bodies!"
"Bring out the dead!"
Trying times. I am 1000 miles away from my mother who is experiencing COVID quarantine, though she is healthy. We couldn't visit her if we were there, and we try to speak with her every day. She is one of the rare ones who has a Chromebook and who writes every day, so she has it better than others who are isolated and suffering. God help us all.
 Feb 2020 Doy A
TurttleQuack
OCD
 Feb 2020 Doy A
TurttleQuack
OCD
This disease struck me
Like a brick on pavement
Hard

Everything was
Perfect
Then that brick came along
And with the slightest movement
Destroyed everything

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
The voices say

Why can’t I let them go?
They keep repeating:

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Why won’t they stop

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
I don’t understand

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Someone just HELP me understand

This disease is about
Perfection
But it's the biggest
Imperfection about me
 Feb 2020 Doy A
Don Bouchard
"You can't hear me!" she whispered,
And I just turned my head.
Sometimes it's better not to hear....
Depends on what's been said.

I know I irritate her;
(I irritate myself).
Hearing aids are waiting
On some hearing doctor's shelf.

While we go on debating,
Because I'm in no hurry,
I sit here contemplating....
Sometimes it's better not to worry.

At the things I heard that peeved me,
Before I tune the wide world out;
Honey, if you really want to catch me,
You're gonna have to shout.
Aging has its issues. Hearing loss seems to be one of mine.
 Feb 2020 Doy A
Marco
Summer radio
 Feb 2020 Doy A
Marco
The sun stood high in a spotless blue sky,
the pool water cool on my skin;
your skin shone with sweat and I seemed to forget
the nightmare that I was trapped in.

That oh so cruel sun of Greece shone on,
never once thought to pause;
it looked down at us as your hands, oh so rough,
collided with my bruised jaw.

Summer went fleeting like every new beating,
it was over soon after begun;
you pulled on my hair and threw me into despair,
and the radio, carefree, played on.
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