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 Apr 2018 Mansi
Dead Rose One
3:15am

<•>

unlike a first kiss, a first love,
the premiere awkward first coupling,
which when one recalls it
appears with ever increasing fuzziness (intentionally?)
or not at all, so much so that making it up based on
fleeting hazed glimpses of unmemorized dreams
just to have an “official entry in the cloudy memory,”
is a semi-necessity for regaling...nobody

but you never forget your virginal
projectile vomiting

there is even an emoji for it,
a hurling curling celebration

like a computer reset,
a confessional admission
that includes your own original
original sin,
a purging so complete,
it is a rebirthing of sorts,
a human do over

(c’mon c’mon get on with this, this
no kiss, a most undeserving bizzaring poem title choice)


each and every time I draw forth
the words on the in sides of me
they are ejected with force comparable,
my body rejecting l'étranger,
who’s now escaping

no first kiss, miss, no laughing at one’s first tumbling fumbling,
there is no smiling recollections sweet,
a cover up for your exciting intimation initiations faint revisions

but your first writing!

given up and out in a ejection burst,
a needle in the arm, gunshot
fluids *******, spit out,
without malice aforethought,
and this your last writing

this one, yes, this one.
comes quick, rough and inelegant,
expulsion combustion leaving you
panting on the cold floor you emptied
but
sorta of whole, a clean sheet, so to speak,
swearing you’ll never do this again,
must be an easier way,
to just slow secrete it holy,
or give up the drug of writing
raven forevermore nevermore

nope-u-dope

the vision of a long ago rabbi,
being burned to death slowly
by the Romans, wrapped in
dampened torah scripture scrolls
to lengthen the burnished burning,
a vision burned into a
very youthful boy’s consciousness,
the holy black ink hand drawn letters flowing
from martyr’s mouth, flying heavenward
this fresh within,
a childhood image primal mind,
is ways present
as each letter typed, formulating mathematically,
based on an artificial intelligence theorem,
that updates itself with every missive,
until the new poem is
projectile released in
a single ***** bursting,
purging of the urging

and guess what,

it just happened again

4/27/18

~for Sky, whose poems endearing found me, in her brazen ways,
which is what poets do~
https://hellopoetry.com/sheepskyny/
When Rabbi Hananiah ben Tradyon was caught teaching Torah in public, the Romans decided to make an example of him. Accordingly, Rabbi Hananiah was wrapped in a Torah scroll, which was then set afire. As if this torture were not sufficient, strips of water-soaked wool were placed on his body to prolong his agony. While his distraught students looked on helplessly, Rabbi Hananiah inspired them with his famous utterance, "The parchment is burning but the letters are flying off," meaning that enemies can crush the Jewish body but not the spirit
A world where everyone waits their turn
And takes no more than their share
Does that make me a communist-
Call me that if you dare.
                   ljm
Dream on, Lori- dream on1
 Apr 2018 Mansi
Mary Gay Kearns
By the river just outside Paris George Seurat
Painted his tree trunks using black conte crayon
In a cream sketchboook
The year was 1893.
Critics say of this work,
All most black,
That it is hovering between
Regularity and irregularity
Reversing the lights and shades
I think he was just trying to get it right.

Love Mary x
Hovering between Regularity and irregularity. Pointillism

Reflections in the water 1893- 1894 . Paris. Black Conte drawing
 Apr 2018 Mansi
Mary-Eliz
in the heavens
clouds floating
birds singing
summer haven

summer haven
birds singing
clouds floating
in the heavens
 Apr 2018 Mansi
Sally A Bayan
(Haiku-10w-Haiku)
              
/:/::/:\::/  _  ||||||

Clock tick-tocked...rain poured
.....my mind swayed...a pendulum
........in the wide dim sky ...
~~~

.....thunder kindly hummed low,
.........hand, tapping, tipping
....my bubbly wineglass
~~~

i stood....stomped my feet
...then, entered an open gate...
there.................i met my fate...


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 27, 2018
:::
deciding is like entering an open gate
decisions we make , shape our fate...
:::
 Apr 2018 Mansi
Mitch Prax
2:47 AM
 Apr 2018 Mansi
Mitch Prax
The way you smiled at me
almost had me believe
that I mattered
again
 Apr 2018 Mansi
Donna
We are all flowers
Slowly growing in the sun
Until the leaves fall
:) got to make the most of everyday ***
 Apr 2018 Mansi
Mary-Eliz
time
without
sunshine
means
dull
and
gray
landscape
gray
and
dull
means
sunshine
without
time
Another short palindrome...
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