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We see without looking
We eat without tasting
We live by surviving
Yet not living at all

We say without knowing
We learn without growing
We live by surviving
Yet not living at all

We step without watching
We hope without acting
We survive by living
Yet not living at all

We trust too generously
And wonder why we get hurt
We lie so easily
Yet wonder why we aren’t told the truth

We live without appreciating
And die wishing we did more
We live by surviving
Yet not living at all
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Anjana Rao
in awe of the marginalized
in awe of the QTPOC
in awe of the survivors
in awe of the femmes
in awe of the fat
in awe of the trans/gender non conforming
in awe of the creators
in awe of the disabled
in awe of the ones who don’t/won’t/can’t recover
in awe of the ones the world is trying to shut up, lock down
in awe of the ones who didn’t make it
in awe of the ones who did
in awe of all of us

I
love
us
thanks to Leah Lakshmi Piepzna Samarsinha for the title and last lines of this short little survivor piece
.surviving is being
.destroyed and finding
.a way to rebuild yourself
.with your own two hands
.while others watch
-DDF
Did you know
That in the snow
Despite the glow

Our fears
Are still there
Still holding us near

Did you know
In the snow
The fear still grows

Even when it's covered
Under beautiful snow smothered
Just beneath the surface can be discovered

Did you know
In the snow
The winds of change still blow

You can try to foget
It will still make you sweat
It will still make you pay that debt

Did you know
In the snow
The fear will still make your blood run cold
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Graff1980
How do you go on
When grief compounds grief
When foundations turn to sand
Turn to glass
Then shatter again and again
How do you persist
Against this sick cycle
Of losing then gaining
And losing again
How do you
Please tell me
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Declan Quinn
Light head carrying me forward on leaden feet.
Someone else’s body under my clothes today.
This lethargy and this ethereal pain, drags.
Drags me sweating out of sleep,
Drags my brain behind my body.
That smile that looks real on my face,
Still doesn’t touch my eyes.
I’m wearing it so long, who’d know?
Same thoughts turn over and over,
One more day becomes one more hour,
Celebrating pointless little victories.
Torturing me, wearing on me.
Killing me the hard way.
;
Yeah, so this happened :)
The off white walls as the paint is beginning to peal, the foundation has shifted, Washed faded teal tiles cold and sticky chipping away, The  microwave place on top of the 3 legged fridge slides every time it's ajar, old wooden dresser missing the bottom draw as the other two grow mold inside from the dampness of the floor, An old Orange curtain  hanging to the left of the window,  barely hanging on the broken rod, as the TV sits in the corner faces the wall, single sink with the medicine cabinet with the cloudy mirror, This is my room for the night, me and my "pup" will get to sleep tonight,  So sitting here with him, we listen to all the sounds and noises, smelling the stench of a burning cigarette, look out the window to only see trash over flowing, people talking in the room beside me,  I try to hold it inside me, but then I let it loose and tears start to fall, then I stop knowing I need to be strong, at least from my "pup",  I tried to show no weakness, these emotions of mine get the best out of us sometimes, dragging him along he always feels when I feel wrong, and when I'm down he's down, I always see it when were out as he walks along, side by side I look down and see my little shadow prancing along, Together we are a whole, hard falls and slippery roads. No matter what always there to pick each other up. I know I made it this far because my little shining star, I owe it to him for keeping me up this far.
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Simon Leake
1.

The light that agitates the equator
bounds across your southern frontier,

and being higher in the wage scale
enables trips there to be easier

than the odysseys of those passing
away in the opposite direction.

Where once bandaged soles went
now many machines tie the stitches

between the divides where once again
bandaged souls will traverse.


2.

Our footprint will be larger than life
and beat the earth to an abstract plain.

Where once many names were needed,
our editorial, read as obituary, will need few.

It’s a recursive gesture to prune in order to grow
but who’s hand truly closes the symphony?

Here I find legumes, tubers, a display of sage
and a cold comfort in my palm.

The perfect chicane of the fern’s stem,
tributaries unfurled, reflects in the plastic bucket.
Published in Angry Manifesto 3/4: https://www.facebook.com/angrymanifesto
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Pixievic
In quiet moments such as these
You creep back into my mind
Like a ninja
Scaling my wall with death defying skill
I invite you in
To take this quiet and make it thunderous
Just for a moment
Then I take my sword and cut you down
You will not beat me
I will not give in
I have already survived
And you .......

Are just a lump!!

(C) Pixievic
I won't be beaten ....! Positive thinking ....!!
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