Vicki 15h
he whistled
  at the moon real soft,
    like a catcall to a pretty girl.
"look at that," he said, pointing up,
         "she's undressing."
      the lunar one
above the edge of the woods
appeared, a pearl
   in an ocean of stars,
  a pretty girl smiling
ear to ear.
  1d Vicki
your words like high speed winds
making noise on my skin
I put on a psychedelic lipstick
I take off the blue dress made in India
- he tries new scores with
oxidized fingers
galvanizes the silence, the thirst, the dreams of the air-
I want to confess iloveyous louder
than the coffee machines louder
than the morning radio
louder than tram number 5
life is what happens while
you stay, leave, come back and
redefine our melting point

I open the door, you are there
with your carnival smile and
nothing prepares me
for this obscure truth
imponderable I feel
when you say
my name my name my name
She wore her hair in
a long plait , her coat smelled of
summers soft washing

She looked up at sky
The clouds gathered together
To brighten her day

O clouds in big sky
So fluffy soft gentle white
Sailing without oars

A mother kisses
her baby's head , the sky wrapped
her in a warm hug

Then they disappeared
The young girl carried on with
her day of study

What had she learnt , was
today an ordinary
day like yesterday

Pigeons and magpies
Walk on ground looking her way
Birds fly in big sky

A curtain opens
To a world of magical
Beasts and princesses

Can she tell any
one would they believe her in
a world full of judge

Sinking in deeper
Her silence becomes serene
As loneliness lifts

And back in both worlds
All returns back to normal
Her moment over
Just playing with words :)
Here lies the man
who lied all his life
without peace.

May he now
lie in peace
Vicki 4d
in this raw
and simple
i set forth
the notion
our children
need us
and upcoming
we will see
a parade
of some of our
smartest, most
and sweetest
youth marching
united, shoots of
grass roots
who know shots
from assault
i feel
called upon
to pause
at a moment
in time such as this,
challenge myself
to consider
simply the logistics
involved in safely
delivering home
to the nation's
Capitol our most
statistic: our babies
under 18
setting forth
across our aging
bridges and highways
and on airplanes
and charter
buses, away from
their studies, dates
and fun times.
i am ashamed
it has gotten
to this stage

in this raw
and simple
space, i wonder
why i write where
the majority
of us
wander off
from poems about
the most egregious
in our world.
i know politics
is a hot-button
issue and i fall prey
to self-absorption,
but not today.
not this time

this poem
is for the kids.
they're sick
of being shot at.
they're sick
of this shit.
within your soul,
can you feel
how frighteningly
creepy this


if all electricity was to pause
all machinery turned off

if nothing is distracting,
would we finally en masse

globally take responsibility-
feel them, hear them,

hold them, still them-
the world's crying children?
Saturday, March 24.
March For Our Lives,
a name picked
by our babies,
These shades of White in wint’ry frozen skies
Have changed throughout the day to Ivory
Cold crisp White crystals fall before my eyes

Soft sunlit glow on hills, where tall pines rise
Turns White to Cream, enhancing scenery
These shades of White in wint’ry frozen skies

Lush Champagne tablecloth spread gently, lies
And shrouds last autumns gold and greenery
Cold crisp White crystals fall before my eyes

Vanilla mountains fade as sun subsides
As walkers wend their way so wearily
These shades of White in wint’ry frozen skies

A cloud of Beige floats by, recedes and dies
Stars shine in Milky Way and wink at me
Cold crisp White crystals fall before my eyes

The ev’ning welcomes warmth. Hot flames arise
from blazing hearths and hearts, so lovingly
These shades of White in wint’ry frozen skies
Cold crisp White crystals fall before my eyes

Maggie © 2018
Written during the snow storm...the beast from the east!
  7d Vicki
When I was thirteen
and still seeing daylight
between my virgin feet
I went to spend the night
with my best friend;
we watched Gunsmoke
on the TV and raided
the refrigerator;
I remember his sister
coming home later
and leaving a crack
in her door and taking
off her clothes before
turning the radio
of my childhood on
leaving it playing
all the hot night long
and I sill hum every one
of those sweet songs.
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