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 Aug 2018 Jade Louise
JL Smith
Where are you?

I read about you in books
And watched you on the silver screen
Society places considerable emphasis
On you sweeping me off my feet

Who are you?

Someone labeled, "Super"
Dressed in boots and a cape?
Or a dubious author
Shredding manuscripts you create?

No matter--

The fairy tale's a myth
No perfect prince charming or princess
Just a worn heart-on-her-sleeve lover
Searching for The One who will accept her mess

© JL Smith
 Aug 2018 Jade Louise
JL Smith
I remember--
I must've been a little younger than five
The first time I learned of letting go
Peeking around my mom's recliner
Staring tearfully at the screen
Dorothy said goodbye to the Scarecrow

We formed a friendship, an unlikely pair
Me poking fun at your lack of brains
You encouraging me as I followed a dream
Down my winding, yellow-brick lane

You were there for me first
Seeing me through every storm
Communicating in the darkest of nights
As I hid fearfully from a tornado that formed

A journey full of memories
A bond strengthened through time
I've always found you most intelligent
And whether I stay or go--
I'll remember there's no place like home
When your love is mine

© JL Smith
 Feb 2018 Jade Louise
Artistry
I want to runaway with you
Leave behind our responsibilities
Everything we’re supposed to do

You look so tired my love
Can’t you see I am too
I’m tired of this race
Tired of wearing a fake happy face

Please take me to a northern sea
Where the wind blows crisp
And waves are all I see
I don’t want this town anymore
I want this dream I’ve been waiting for
The dream you told of me and you
The dream I know we can make come true
#letsgo #runaway #suburbia
If I could walk, I’d march with
The black and civil rights folk.

If I could walk, I’d carry a baby
On my shoulders to let him see

The evil behind him, in front of
Him, across the street he plays in.

If I could walk, I’d wrap love in
A blanket and give it to an old lady.

I’d sell my car and make a
Bandage out of its metal.

I’d be in a parade right next to the
Pastor from down home.

If I could walk, my tears would
Dry up, and my gut, as tight

As steel, would scream, fighting
Against the hate in the world,

The empty hearts emptier by the
Day, the hopeful souls dried up.

I cannot walk, but I can sing, and
I will sing songs of praise and

Melodies of strength and support
For those who hurt and whose

Eyes and ears are numb with
Grief and pain and chaos.

I cannot walk, but I can protest
Against betrayal and lies and

Corruption and bloodshed,
And protest I will.

© Lewis Bosworth, 8-2017
 Aug 2017 Jade Louise
Semihten5
played on every draft
until the decision is finalized

difference between first and last is very big
if love stop like a draft,always

never would changed feelings
 Aug 2017 Jade Louise
trinity
growth
 Aug 2017 Jade Louise
trinity
I look into a mirror
And though i don’t always like what i see,
There’s still a flicker in my eyes
And i’m glad that i am me.
 Aug 2017 Jade Louise
JB Claywell
Sometimes one has to realize
that they have to be
the one to initiate change.
Sometimes one can roar and howl
into the ear of the enemy,
into the inferno, into the abyss
and achieve nothing.
Or, one can whisper in the ear of
someone who doesn't believe
or understand.
A word of kindness,
a word of faith,
and all of a sudden,
one might find that they
are speaking to an ally
where once an enemy
stood.

*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications
 Aug 2017 Jade Louise
JAC
Here's to
sad songs
and dancing
through the kitchen
in our sweaters and underwear
when we should most certainly be asleep.
Misty mountain heights
too precipitous and craggy to tread.
We imagine infinite possibilities
and traverse the talus instead.
Wandering through frost bitten landscapes
the macabre gruesome of yore.
Sentience breeds visions of panacea
entreating us to ask for more.
But enigma is a treacherous tirade
and the berserker is at the door.
Revulsions list toward recompense
reality seems a *****
The wanton wayward gist of pith
is diabolical dementia.
How to accomplish bailiff’s rake
while preserving in-absentia.
There is no more impunity
for those who live with sooth.
And yet our souls would long for grace
and try to call it truth.
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