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The way that I let you shatter my chest
like a piece of glass.
or the way I would let you
do it all over again.
 Aug 2014 Danny Wolf
Haruka
homesick
 Aug 2014 Danny Wolf
Haruka
i am tired of building
my home in the arms
of strangers that vaguely
resemble your outline.
ravens squawked
on that half moon night
the people in the village
were filled with fright

a scary portent lingered
upon the forest dell
the black sorcerer
was mixing a horrid spell

winds whirled
in an agitated manifest
evil twas the potion
prophetic its guest

horror sprung
from the cauldron's brew
atop the hills
smokey fires did spew

eerie groans emanated
inside the sorcerer's chest
the incarnate devil
dwelt in his breast

he opened his mouth
to consume a gnarly toad
as the fleeing villagers
ran along the forest road
 Aug 2014 Danny Wolf
Urmila
Light
 Aug 2014 Danny Wolf
Urmila
There was a light, shining brighter than the sun
I should have basked in it, but I stared too long,
...And I was blind
 Aug 2014 Danny Wolf
Sjr1000
Come together people
and
write this poem

The end of war
we know it's coming

It's gotta come now
there's no more time
to
wait
The Blue Orchid
it's wilting in space.

The power of peace
it's gotta get moving
"If you're not part of the solution
You're part of the problem"

You hurt me
I hurt you
You **** my sister
I **** you too
You **** my child
I slaughter more.

"War War
what is it good for? "

Come together people
and
hear the cry
the mourners are suffering
but
forgiveness survives.

The dead don't dance
too many on the ground
listen
listen
We can still hear the human sound.

Come together people
and
write this poem
The one that will get
peace going.

It's been one too many centuries
no more time for this disease
eradication for this plague
the anecdote
only our words
can say

We can all share in this
our
Poem Of The Day.
"Part of the solution. . ." Eldridge Cleaver, 1968.
"War,  what's it good for", 1970, Edwin Starr.
Steve's 153rd hippie dream.
 Aug 2014 Danny Wolf
Sjr1000
We've become a
civilization of diseases
we build
monuments
statues
institutions
thinking death won't ever find
us here.

Our minds are scrambled
our bodies are damaged
our food is poisoned
our skies are toxic
our vices
are forces of processes
beyond our
control.

When we are not humbled
by nature's power
we inflict our wounds
upon ourselves in
the names of greed
and self protection
and no one knows
what it really means.

Fearful of the silence
we fill our skies with
endless noise
babbling on in endless
monotones, droning
while traffic stalls
at a hot stand still
idling engines
idling souls
depletion of every last glimpse
of the past.
Jam packed
in the stench
I am lost today
in
this vitriol
as anxiety, death and desperation
from every corner
screams my name.

That's why I came
to these woods
where the illusion of
peace remains
as
wild fires burn
just down the lane
as you know
as you say
its always been this way
when bodies hung
at every cross-roads
hunger, power, ignorance
and strength
all ran
the show.

I'm sick with
every disease I
know.

I float upon these tranquil
blue waters
and
we are reminded of the peace we all
really can know.
 Aug 2014 Danny Wolf
Roberta Day
Redundancy.
I read my words
and I’m sickened,
that you had this
effect on me. I read
them and I’m fatigued
by the redundancy.
I have nothing to say
that hasn’t been said
in the same way
only reconstructed
to better play the illusion
of new ideas and
some sort of change.
There is always the basis
the substance of being
the substance being
my overactive feelings
and constant repression
of what makes me alive—
this feeds the depression
and I cry when I think
and I’m dead when I don’t
I’m lying when I speak
and lying when I don’t
I’m fighting every day
my feelings when I
have them, and finding
every day, I have more than
I can fathom, and I can’t
always put into words
how or why I feel things
so I tend to repeat
what comes naturally
and when I reread
I am exhausted by
my own redundancy.
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