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 Dec 2024 Cné
Robert
Broken, a dove lay.
Crimson blood stains her wings red.
Surly love was the cause.
 Dec 2024 Cné
Left Foot Poet
of what would we write?
of ourselves,
of/to
each other,
would that be sufficient?

cannot imagine the
absence of these essences?

that reassures
our places in the universe,
gifts to us each,
to preach hallelujah

rue that day,
and your only choice
of smiling or crying,
or both,
for the world’s clothing
is an invitation to
begin creating
 Dec 2024 Cné
n
senseless
 Dec 2024 Cné
n
i wake up in a sweat, but i am so cold
i check the clock, its only been an hour
i haven’t slept in such a long time

far, or near
i can always feel it

am i the moth
or am i the flame

-
 Dec 2024 Cné
mads
My brain has been torn apart
Crumpled together
And smeared across the billboards of my timeline
My heart shredded and trampled on
My body has seen torments and tortures
That parents fear and
Don’t understand the possibility.
I was told it was my fault.
Every action had its cause.
Every act of terror had its reason.
Me.

But it was never my fault.

I wasn’t the reason I hated this thigh,
Or this skin
Or these bones.
Or this brain
This way of thinking.

Nothing was ever wrong with me.
 Dec 2024 Cné
Traveler
The simplicity of rhymes
freely flows
through the readers mind.
As simplistic words unravel
in an array of poetic babble
we channel
the memes of our muses.

No forced word can capture,
no college can teach
the aesthetics of laughter,
the glamour of grief.

The essay of brilliance
awaits in the zone.
The Muse and the Master
in the hearts of gold.
Traveler Tim
 Dec 2024 Cné
Traveler
WHAT WORK?
 Dec 2024 Cné
Traveler
There’s no labor
When we’re in the zone
Every line is on its own
Every stanza polished and pure
What was it that drew us here

Some shadow driven desire
A dopamine rush if you please
Like a yogi in the moment
Like a dogs tail wagging free

From the masses we have risen
The quickening is quite satisfying
All the addictions we could have
And it’s poetry that we rely on.
Traveler 🧳 Tim
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