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  Jun 21 Nylee
Traveler
Herbicide rich farm lands..
Pesticides on every lawn..
Long live the American dream!
Capitalism is a long lost song..

Roundup sprayed ski slopes and golf course turfs!
Bucket list of old rich folks dying of cancers..
City water that stinks..
The ink of our receipts..
Testosterone levels,
rapidly deplete..
Year’s of no regulation,
Aluminum in the sky..
They obviously want to make sure…
No one gets out alive!!
Traveler Tim
  Jun 18 Nylee
Druzzayne Rika
You got a good name, good height, everything alright
What you turned inside, is emotional oversight
Incredibly twisted, any word is tiring
You overthink everything like you are competing.

Competition is with whom, the older you?
The truth is so loud, but sometimes beyond true!
Because the complexity turned infinity
With all unreleased sores, you choose indefinitely.

Picking apart all the plucked up parts
You dream of designs something off the charts
The reality hits, stings incomprehensibly
This danger looms always grievously.

Seriously you have bright future, but you wear shades
So everything you see is dark tinted
So much for innovation, the heart finds problems
We will always think about unused items.
  Jun 17 Nylee
irinia
worlds are collapsing, rising; dictators exhale,
entangle the veins of world
some ideas preserve salty streets like janitors of the dark
summer keeps the score of perfumed nights
I indulge in the womb of heat
wounds are retreating in sequestered spaces -
the seeds of the future.
there is a chill in the air, dread strikes near and far
light flows like the dance stuck in my bones
everywhere the pulse of time, dreaming
  Jun 17 Nylee
Thomas W Case
On our way into
Santa Anita one day,
an old man had tipped
over in his wheelchair.
There was a pool of blood
beneath his smooth head.
I was with my Dad.
He was around the same
age as the poor injured man.
I was 12.

Seeing that man, and watching
the blank stares of the apathetic
crowd gathering around the
man, and the blood, and the
fallen wheelchair, I knew that
nobody would win, and the
horses that ran were the luckiest
of us all.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tpMDoNXg_U
Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read from my recently published books.  They are on Amazon.com
Sleep Always Calls, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse.
Nylee Jun 16
I chase the decoys, fleeting and bright,
A world strewn with toys that dazzle the sight.
Deceptions and games weave through the day,
Till nightfall arrives, and truths slip away.


Something falters, a crack in the core,
Nature’s own riddle, unyielding, unsure.
Kindness must bloom where hardness takes root,
Yet chaos persists, sowing endless dispute.

How does it spin, this unending maze?
Life’s like a box where wild weeds blaze.
Courage, a spark, flares fierce in the space,
Confidence cuts with a savage display.

Nothing grows quick, though time doesn't stand still,
A constant pulse with a shifting will.
Scenes rise and fade, their edges blur,
Moments dissolve, yet their echoes stir.

What would the world be, in scarcity or wealth?
Would birds still carve skies in their boundless health?
Their wings sweep the heavens, a distant flight,
Carving their paths through the endless night.

Destiny runs deeper than surfaces show,
Its layers unfold where dimensions grow.
Beyond what we see, beyond what we trace,
A truth hums alive in the vastness of space.

Divisive tides clash, bold riders hone,
Creeping through shadows that cover the globe.
Somedays bring light, others weigh like stone—
What words can answer when meaning’s unknown?
Nylee Jun 10
Generous and kind acts,
What is charity to you?
Give away my thing,
Now is it right to call it mine?

Service to other, who are we
servicing really?
What is the true nature
helping is being kind simply.

Toppled by feeling good,
Is it for others or self?
Elated within
Reminiscing with pride.

Do you wish to give away all of yours
To your kin or strangers?
trinkets of mine, now owned by so many
The resource from earth, passes on.

With our last breath, who are we
donating skin and eyes, the body will pass on
Who am I, a soul?
This life ends, but possession remains
What becomes of me, where do I go?
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