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 Feb 2019 Mari
CK Baker
listen to the babble of the cool mountain stream
and the morning birds singing from the evergreen
 Feb 2019 Mari
Anthony Mayfield
It's like moving in slow motion
While the city lights
Br in the fast lane
Cutting me off
Cutting me off
And then
They burn my eyes
While they cut me off
As I rocked to the top
Higher it rose up
But I never stop
I'll never stop
It's all I know
And all I've got
Long live the hard flop
So I'll roll with the punches
And see what I've got
Way to go
Small fry
You're in the big leagues now.
Welcome to the unfiltered real world. You may have been big man on campus, but around here you're small.
 Feb 2019 Mari
Gulishta
Yours.
 Feb 2019 Mari
Gulishta
You came slowly .....
       With your silent feet,
               And hushed breath.

Sneaking behind me .....
        As the silent sea,
               Before tsunami.

Swept me away.....
      In your whirlwind,
               Snatching the ground beneath my feet.

I was floating with your current.....
        At the mercy of your waves,
             Catching breath in-between my last priority.

I was yours....
     Being drown or saved.
I was yours....
     To discard or to hold.
I was yours....
     With my body and soul.

But in the chaos erupting around. ..
       I forgot......
             To ask you to be mine.
 Feb 2019 Mari
Path Humble
the count starts now (tired of tired)


I read your outcry at 3:00am
posted on Facebook

you are
tired of tired
sick of sick
the only question, will it ever end...

rise this day,  start another way...

count your blessing
count against all odds
for there are more than merely one

use both hands
both hands chested to feel the heart thrusting,
for living is a wondrous blessing unique
an unbelievable to believe than so many beats,
born and borne,
by you, a strength unequaled,
you a richness possessed

count that one first.
count my hands holding your shoulders.
count that as two, one for me, one for you.

more? more.  

mirror.  find the tiny light in each eye against a yellow backdrop.

add two more. for they are a sparking confidence of confirming.

you felt the heart thrumming
go back, feel the breathing warmth breaching forth.
add another. for now known you can never ever be cold.

wash the face, wash away the caution that sleep leaves,
the coverlet of fear that fears you not to dare,
amazing that tap water plain is sacred when it
miracle breaks you out and anoints thy forehead with pure oil like the kings of yore, be a kingly human being.

go out. do not return
until one act of kind is performed and
count that as a thousand blessed, a sum recurring recounted

walk humble and the path will always appear.
walk contented for you can be both king and servant,
there is no difference - you must be both to be the other
one.

and if you still cannot raise the head,
call me.
that would be a blessing for me
and I will hear your blessings sounds mine merge,
dear friend and no more stranger,
that is the simplest definition of our learning to count to
infinity
4:00am I read your cry on facebook ph pathhumble
 Feb 2019 Mari
Scott F Hemingway
thursday in the moon and stars  
while their ghetto guitars
were heating and loud cars were yearning
and brimming again she'd cry instead of weep so shockingly
and plaster the walls with paper knobs

this rocket her in boots had awoken in harmony
where yesterday's obsession was stale perfume

in a season of these jolly giants they'd strangely gangrene
a station with Rapunzel and her raps and pictures
that in zesty cornflower she'd let her hair down
till a rain shower grew over her eye in the sky
then her pilot saw such a cloudburst and jettison her
deeper in the ground where she laid the beast
 Feb 2019 Mari
makeloveandtea
a rainwater memory
of fresh trees
smelling green,
and dreaming to songs
under a pastel sun.
impatient
and always in mood
for a hot cup
of anything;
i never remember
birthdays
or valentines.
passionate and mad,
then utterly over it —
i never know to define
love.
making paper boats
in puddles,
cross-legged
on a floor
and on restaurant tables,
i have made
a rosy world.
for worse
or for better,
never been heartbroken enough
or for too long —
life has been sweet to me.
wishing
on eyelashes,
and starry skies
i have made
a rosy world
of rainwater
and songs.
here,
is a cornucopia
of pink, inexplicable
goodness.
all things grey
come here
to become
new days,
new chances
and miracles.
never remember
birthdays,
or valentines
but i'm thinking of you
and wishing
you well.
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