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 Jul 2 Olivia
R.S. Thomas
We live in our own world,
A world that is too small
For you to stoop and enter
Even on hands and knees,
The adult subterfuge.
And though you probe and pry
With analytic eye,
And eavesdrop all our talk
With an amused look,
You cannot find the centre
Where we dance, where we play,
Where life is still asleep
Under the closed flower,
Under the smooth shell
Of eggs in the cupped nest
That mock the faded blue
Of your remoter heaven.
 Jul 2 Olivia
rebecca
do you have moments, where you can’t imagine a future?
you’re lying there, staring at the
same walls
same ceilings
same words
with nothing but the same feelings-
empty and pale,
like there’s no reason to go on,
when you can’t even do enough to fail.
the future is coming, but you don’t want to be in it,
can’t imagine yourself in it.
where you just want to stop.
everything.
and just sit there for a while.
maybe not death, as that’s too permanent,
but something close to it.
when you can feel the rope around your neck,
the razor on your wrist,
the way the pills taste.
you can imagine it, and you aren’t sure if it’s what you want,
or just the feelings you imagine it will give you
Is this depression?
 Jul 2 Olivia
F A Pacelli
fear is anti-fragile
the more we resist it
the stronger it becomes
let fear pass through you
feel it then let it go
 Jul 2 Olivia
Soul Deep
You coward! hiding behind numb comfort
Status quo and archaic chains
Never free and it won't save you
You cower! as bottomless emotions wash over
You wait for the placid, stale air to settle
If not for the fear, I wonder if you would fight
For everything that should be
Fight for everything that could be
For the greatest
For the true
the game is over,
chess pieces all, put away.
yet the mind plots moves!
The moon at midnight
Upon a silent sea
Casting Her glow, iridescent
The waves break in hushed tones
Upon sandy shores, glittering,
In the dark of night
Receding water leaves behind
Pale bodies, sleek and stunning
White and whiskered
Drinking in Her magnificence
They shed their skins
Walking arm in arm upon this earth
Creatures of both land and sea
Naked and gleaming bodies, thrive
Beneath the stars, unseen, unheard
Quiet and graceful as the lull of the ocean
Dancing, singing, siren voices
Until the first light of dawn breaks, then
Back into their silken selves
The tide rolls in, and out again
Taking with it
The moon's sweet daughters.
/Aye, she belongs to the sea
The moon, her mother and the land,
Agh, the land be her lover
For at night she visits and joyous,
Joyous in the moonlight she sings/
Unicorn sprinkles,
Daffodils jam,
A little star's twinkle
And some dragon ham.

Some emerald clovers,
A pint of fairy dust,
A handful of stover
And some canned gust.

Teardrops of a Selkie,
Well shaken, not stirred,
The horseshoe of a kelpie,
Late Iron Age sherds.

Some fizzy witchcraft,
One bottle or two,
And maybe a draught
Of love potion too.
Someone challenged me to add my shopping list in here and to have it called a poem. I think they had no idea what they were asking of me, so... here is my shopping list. Enjoy!
 May 31 Olivia
Sai
"There's a target on your back,"
said the man in striped white socks and flip flops.
He swung his arms freely and slapped his face
accidentally or intentionally--his illness wasn't mine to name.

The trees wrapped their arms around one another in a huddle.
"Quick she's coming near. The target is close."
One. Two. Three. Birds flew by and splashed my forehead.
I looked back and felt one of the trees wink and point ahead.

A man on a moped waited until my back was turn and I bent down.
Whistle. Whistle. Head turn back ninety degrees.
You'll get in an accident, I thought; I secretly wanted,
his helmet-less head splat flat on the concrete, skin burning,
melting, bubbling, pooling in a puddle.

The red doors whined against my insistent grasp.
When I found my white door, I air twisted the **** that was
pushed back to show the open space inside the coolness.
I didn't live that cold. I didn't know how.
He did. And he reached into my freezer and removed his tongue.
I sank onto the floor and felt ice hit me my cheeks and my eyes and ears.
The blankets couldn't warm me. My tears couldn't melt what formed.

He tossed my key on the mat, kicked back dust into my face;
looked me square in the eyes frozen wide open, mouth gaping for air.

"I put a target on your back. See ya."
 May 30 Olivia
Praggya Joshi
I
 May 30 Olivia
Praggya Joshi
I
Who am i
I am a mote of sand
Shifting through
The winding dunes
Of time
I am a scratched leaf
Swaying under the
Whims of wind
Through the vast
Unending brows
Of forests
In this planet
I am a tiny
Drop of rain
Melding with the
Arterial waterways
Thus
I am an infinitesimal
Speck of life
Amid the infinite circle
Of an inordinately
diverse life
But how am i
I am alive
I can breathe
I can percieve
By myself
Independently
And this is the
Sole reason
Why i should aim
To be contented
With how
I exist
Isn't it
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