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 May 2016 Jonny
Chameleon
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 May 2016 Jonny
Chameleon
You should never stop learning new things about yourself if you keep growing.
Keep changing, developing, expanding.

It's important to listen to different music,
watch documentaries and movies and TV shows, and read books that you may not think are for you.

They might be.
 May 2016 Jonny
Kanupriya Khurana
it's a walk
in a long dark tunnel
it's a journey
of the unseen
it's a lesson
to learn to let go
it's we need to learn
to let it flow

KPK
 May 2016 Jonny
Gerry Aldridge
Joy
 May 2016 Jonny
Gerry Aldridge
Joy
Joy
Joy can be a moment
A period of time
Or even a permanent state.
It depends on how much of your heart you follow.

I wonder if I followed all my dreams
How many hearts I would break.
And if I listened to my heart
How many dreams I would take?
(Gerry Aldridge)
 May 2016 Jonny
Lex
I would say my bed is the only place
I feel at home anymore but
You are still haunting my dreams
I want to unlace you from my brain,
and rip every stitched piece of you out of
my heart
until red reflects everything,
Like neon street lights,
I want to ask you in the sweetest song
your ears have ever heard
"What does it feel like to be in love"
But my hands shake at the thought
of you not saying
"It's hand crafting every star in the sky to bring out your smile"
Please leave me alone
 May 2016 Jonny
chasing vapors
just because
it doesn't leave
a single line
doesn't mean
it's not a poem

just because
it doesn't rhyme
doesn't mean
you're not a poet

because a poem
is not merely
about the style
but solely
about the soul
 May 2016 Jonny
LJW
Turn it around in the grass
it's summer, I'm getting' older
Sun's up hot who knows
If life does get better.
When will all my friends show up?
Today I'll stay level,
Just enjoy the normal,
No need for exceptional,
It's so flighty
And always flies away.
 May 2016 Jonny
Terry O'Leary
Come join the unraveling circus
quite soon to be passing our way,
with the clowns in a clamor to twerk us -
line up as they lead us astray!

Arriving, the elephant trumpets
agendas of aberrant acts
while the donkeys drool, dunking their crumpets
and twirlers spin, twisting the facts.

The big top’s now open to breezes,
so pundits soar spreading their wings
to convince us to tread the trapezes,
for it's they who'll be pulling the strings.

The merry-go-round’s so amazing
(black horses bound, chasing the cart)
as the brass ring of change wanders wildly
till stealing straight back to the start.

The moldy old model of Ptolemy
(at the hub of this three ring domain)
mixes marvels of magic with alchemy
in the bowels of the mastodon’s brain.

Neglecting the gulls who’ll be eating
stale crumbs that have dropped from the plate,
the vain vulture of virtue’s oft tweeting  
of Circus Land once again great.

The tamer, adorned in fine trumpery
(pate garnished with fiery mane)
has endeavored to wall the ring's boundary,
keep millipede migrants in rein.

The dwarves and their antics are funny
while juggling to balance the books,
so the titans laugh, grappling the money
extracted by hook or by crooks.

The sideshows provide a composite
of fails of the frizzed billionaire,
some disclosing the bones in his closet
caught clutched in the arms of the bear.
    
From towers the trumpet is blowing
fake messages, fetid but full,
but as long as the cattle keep lowing,
he’ll hasten to serve them the bull.

The masses, persuaded to follow,
float foolishly into the fog
overwhelmed by the vapors they swallow,
choked up like the ruff-collared dog.

The snap of the whip as it whooshes
maintains the domains of the dupes
so the cats won’t escape to the bushes,
refusing to hop through the hoops.

With the promise to call out the cavalry,
the hearts of the crowds beat athrob
for in spite of their struggles and rivalry
the Don’s still controlling the mob.

Humbled Empress on *******’s hilarious,
parading her ***** and mules,
with her fabulous tales (mostly spurious)
wagging only the naive and fools.

Mounting ponies in circles, she rode 'em
through lobbies where influence crawls
with her claws clinging tight to the totem
while seals on the banks balanced *****.

Yes, the pack’s still pre-paid by the PAC men,
some wolfing their ways through the maze,
while fey fables are hawked by the packmen
who canvass our eyes with a glaze.

The pretender defender of females
is actu'ly one of the hawks;
secrets hidden in spills of her re-mails
means pillory, stuck in the stocks.

The swine in the central arenas
(immersed in the fat of the throne)
begin dancing like wee ballerinas
’fore pitching the proles a bare bone.

Jesters Cruzo and Bozo, while boozin'
(dealt cards which were ******* by the ****),
ruled “not winning the hand would be losin’
and need for an armed Minuteman.”

Well the ray gun's still loaded and toted
(the gall’ry forbidding all bans)
and the NRA gang’s become bloated
shooting **** in the face of the fans.

One day when the mad house has folded
and sawdust’s been wafted aside,
Human Race will be racing, remolded,
surmounting life’s hurdles in stride.
 May 2016 Jonny
Jozef Vizdak
You probably don’t think
about me anymore
(as spring about winter
and winter about fall)
But tell me
in the deepest of nights
do you ever wake up
feeling the calling
far from your sight
(and sight of any man
life or even meaning)
do you ever start crying
because the tears from
miles and miles don’t
let you free yourself
from burning (in the
same time dreams
of you were cut
from my heart—
—the reality so painful
and shiningly suicidal)
but don’t worry please
for
the stars and the trees
and the world is
the beginning for you
(for me the end)
Too late
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