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  Oct 2018 L B
notthepoethewantstobe
I’ve held many things.
Hands and breath, and memories,
Hurt that still stings,
And lost opportunities.

I’ve held many things.
The gift of a newborn son,
A phone while it rings,
Shame for the worst things I’ve done.

I’ve held many things.
Too long, too much and too few,
Emotional swings,
But none is like holding you.
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  Oct 2018 L B
Graff1980
The metal moves faster,
as he pushes the pedal down,
innocent urges shift from
first to second;
Moments of magic speed
with piercing wind
which he breathed in
almost syncing them
to his racing heartbeat.
The engine roars,
as he implores
time to take him
farther away from
everyone.
A sharp turn
turns him over
and as his car leaves the ground
he thinks
I am free.

The train chugs
along
moving at an
average pace
away from the place
he longs to escape.
Not as fast as the car
but this time
he gets much farther,
and enjoys the
tranquility
of seeing each city
slide by the side
and out of view
as he stares out
the train window.
  
The sea
opens up
as the boat
pushes forth into
a whole unknown
watery world,
as he moves farther
and farther
away from home
seeking
the freedom
of the unfamiliar.

Wings move him
away from the earth
and toward the heavens,
but it is never far enough away
for him to find
the freedom
he seeks.

Gravity is released,
as he looks
at a world below
with no
borders,
or countries
and though
he knows
he will have to go back
he turns around
to see the
bluish black
expanse
with white diamonds
that beckon him
to his freedom.

Years of pain
spent in a bed
as his frame
withers away,
followed by
a failing mind,
until the last day
when he finally finds
the freedom
he has been chasing
all his life.
  Oct 2018 L B
Leslie Philibert
Red ringed arms of leather
fail under the hot ring,
wax and feathers

weaken under the low-draft.
You're a shot bird, a soft hit
falling akimbo down to

the green wash, to the salty
glass of impact, a slip through clouds
for a mouth full of tide.
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