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 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
Blossom
Swollen eyes of sleep depreieve
With giant black bags underneath
Bright red cheeks huff and puff
Raggedly pained air that I breathe

Tear stains appear on my pillow each night
In dozens of crosshatched lines
But I drudge out of bed to wash them away
So that nobody knows they were mine

From here on out- I refuse to sleep
to be forced into nightmares again
Coffee and lights as my main support
Why should I worry my friends?
 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
Doug Potter
She lay in bed for hours
tossing like a small
boat in big
water

I sat in the old recliner
watching as a jay
might its sick
fledgling
 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
Nigel Finn
Nothing exists except atoms and space,
And everything else is opinion,
Yet we can't determine the time of their place,
And relative distance between 'em.

If I could understand,
With a wave of my hand,
All that is, and what lies in between,
I probably wouldn't,
For fear that I couldn't
Unsee what what I might think obscene.

What if, for example,
I could indeed sample
All knowledge there is to be known?
Would I be enlightened,
Or possibly frightened?
Depressed once all mystery's gone?

If nothing exists except atoms and space,
And if everything else is opinion,
Then surely opinion's mankind's saving grace;
The source of the beauty within 'em
I'm stealing another quote outright in this one. This time I've borrowed "Nothing exists except atoms and space, and everything else is opinion." from Democritus, or rather from the person who translated Democritus if you want to get technical.

To say my grasp of physics is almost non-existent would be an understatement, but I know just enough to know this may offend a few physicists out there.
within the campsite's closed up enclave
a general kept many a trooper slave
on hearing strident orders being spoken*
they'd jump to the commands that did sound
as these strict directives were oft around
each servile soldier was at this behest
doing what the big man would so request
but they tired of the marshal's token
a revolt put well in train there and then
they'd not be yoked to the despot's pen
their bid for liberty's run was a victory
on catching the tyrant whilst fast asleep
through an ajar gate ran the muffled sheep
*whereupon their freedom became history
 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
mikecccc
Should a tongue
leave burn marks
it's funny
what a mouth full of venom
can do to a person
maybe not funny
intriguing
at times distressing.
certainly painful.
 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
Doug Potter
Food for thought, the school
is torn down, McDonald’s
took its

place, and the old man
living in the corner
house

masturbated on his  front
porch until the police
stopped him

is decades dead, I don’t
remember his name

but the poor as horse meat
children who attended
class with me

I see like clean
glass.
You foolish beings
You left the safety of the trees with
a plentiful diet of fruits , nuts and berries
You acquired a taste for blood that -
sent you to your knees
Your protein addicted brains developed
tools to inflict pain , to carve flesh ,
introducing your animal brethren to the pang of
uncontrolled , calculated , violent death
Today , we continue to watch from the branches
Thankful for the power of flight
To distance ourselves from your -
destruction with all our might* ..
Copyright December 7 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
Ma Cherie
She sits at her favorite stool,
and his too,
an old metal one,
with a soft faded & holey towel,
folded as a make-shift cushion,

Her knees out to the side,
one foot on each rung,
sipping fruity tea with honey,
crisp cold white snow blankets her outside
world,
it ain't for her the money,
preparing ideas for food for many,
always composing magic,
and bracing for the many requirements,
of her day,

She sits there so very often,
it was her very ***** place,
she loves so very much to be there,
but she leaves with only grace,

A lover, friend and his personal chef,
with him she's gotta keep the pace,
keep her his your corner,
when you need it she's a welcomed ace,
such a wonderful and sturdy brace,
grey skies are so easy for her spirit away to chase,
a strong and bending tree,
you could never really break that base,

Seems like to some in order to have true love,
is like winning some old endless race,
she hides her disappointed tears,
and a smile comes to her lovely aging face,

Patience it is her virtue,
but strength it is at her core,
her kindness though only goes so far,
before she shuts the proverbial, door,

She's been down the long goodbye road,
a few too many times before,
but hey boy it ain't like she's ever really tried at keeping score,
and she loves so much its only her mind that's temporarily feeling a tad bit sore,

She is the strength of very many,
she has her Father's helping hands,
you'll notice when she's gone,
you'll cry out her name,
in lost demands,
she's a waning waxing moon,
she changes quickly with it's sudden plans,
she leaves when the wind calls,
into the drifting times of sands,

She may not be so "easy",
but what good ever comes that way?
please boy,
listen to every single word I say,
you need the sun to shine,
so please just ask her light to stay,

So plead to her to never ever really,
go away,
she's the one who loves you true,
I pray you hear my words today,

As it seems it is the only way,
for you in this,
my folded hands,
in my silent reverie for you,
& her
I will forever,
& always pray.

Cherie Nolan © 2016
I hope he see's her...his muse
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