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 Sep 2018 red
Shannon Ní Bhriain
She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.
 Aug 2018 red
Seema
Essence
 Aug 2018 red
Seema
I have been away for too long
In a solitude, burried with remorse
For I've lost a very close loved one
And the situation got worse

I prayed to be taken away
For my life to end
As soon as possible
Coz nothing much was left to mend

Tears rolled down my cheeks
To stop the negative thoughts
Got taken back many times
To untie the invisible knots

Voices got into my ears
That ached to explode my temple
Closing my eyes eveytime
A picture painted, to resemble

It's you, O'mum...that I can't get over with
Life seems, more like a lego
Feelings that can't be put into words
Every bit pierces through the core

Your smile, your beauty, your essence
Has all been captured by this heart
Now, in troubled weak times
Another scene peeps as an art

How will I ever, comfort myself
That now I am all alone
None that are left by my side
All have fallen and gone

May your soul rest in peace
Exactly, a month today
Missing you heaps in this crowded shell
Hope to meet you, someday...


©sim
Voices from my weak heart.
 Jul 2018 red
Left Foot Poet
for Tascha

deep in the pond of unhappy, swimming,
drowning the next contemporaneous
depression thought quickly swallowed,
desperation in quick glances everywhere,
dawn is no consolation but just another
daily drawing tighter of twine cutting
disillusionment


dear god, commences every thought,
delayed answers have yet to arrive,
**** the deity's non-responsivness,
dare not say out loud lest,
deserved fates be worse, be realized,
didn't know? how can that be?
disguiser par excellent, I am the original
deceiver

But I never think about

death or dying, for that would be
defeat finale, a statute to, a status of none, a
destiny some wick spark, still insists can be
deferred

differed always,
diffidently, but grasping yet at the
double entendre that is my
dark vision of a future already past

May 2015
may 2015, back when I could write...
 May 2018 red
Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
 May 2018 red
Sylvia Plath
But I would rather be horizontal.
I am not a tree with my root in the soil
******* up minerals and motherly love
So that each March I may gleam into leaf,
Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
Compared with me, a tree is immortal
And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,
The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
I must most perfectly resemble them--
Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
The the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.
 Jan 2018 red
Charleigh Huston
A noose hung high,
For the man lost of mind -
The town gathered round'
For the hanging tree mound
With shouts
With stones
With condemnation
To an innocent man bound;
A burning avatar yield,
Dead - by word of town.
Why is everything such a witch hunt nowadays? What happened to innocent until proven guilty? People are crazy today!
 Jan 2018 red
a mcvicar
child's play
 Jan 2018 red
a mcvicar
first; tie a knot,
for the ones you've cut,
the ones that fell down,
the ones that you've lost.

second; build a bridge,
skinny mistake,
burn them all down,
without feeling a thing.

third; circle the bridge
in a long piece of rope,
pray that it doesn't snap
on account of the smoke.

fourth; under the bridge and pull,
now tighten it up, it's easy to do,
now your noose is as tight
as your shoe.

fifth, at last, the final step; tuck your shoelaces into your shoe,
'cause tripping ain't fun
when you fall and break your arm
or maybe your heart, or one, or two.
12.1.18  /  15.19  / no comment
 Jan 2018 red
Emma Pickwick
Listening to you talk about someone else
Like a stab in the chest ripping all the way down
In the car after dinner,
With a ****** gaping hole,
That you couldn't see, but I felt all the same.

You were smiling and I was smiling too.
You said she was great and you met her dad by chance, and it was the best one in a long time.
I giggled childishly
And let the wound fester and ooze,
You didn't even notice.

I saw it in your eyes,
It was a love,
And it was different than ours.

When you dropped me off,
I felt guilty and nauseous.
It’s not your responsibility to cradle my ego,
To be my romance.
You told me you loved me and you'd see me soon,
You'd see her tomorrow,
Filling the wound with rocks before attempting to sew it up,
Or at least, it felt like it.
Owwwwwwwwwwww
 Jan 2018 red
Dr Peter Lim
HAIKU
 Jan 2018 red
Dr Peter Lim
Cottage by the sea
windows slammed by heavy winds
there is no respite
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