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You haberdashery hauberk harangue of a hornswoggling hiatus .  Your arrogantly delusory blasphemous dementia of odiously ominous diabolically grotesque gives me a decadent distraughtness of desultory debauchery and ghastly gnarly abysmal abjections .  It causes hysterical deliriums of maniacally macabre .  My swashbuckling surreptitious spatiotemporal telemetry tactician is tacitly inured in a phantasmagoria fantastication of fabulist façade fantasias .  I could positively kithe a futurity cudgel phantasm and bonkers bluster boggle with your phrenetically frenzied phrenic and forget my phyletic you preterit rendition autonomy equilibrist .
A slightly humorous and cynical look at the martial artist's stance.
 Dec 2024 Pax
Kurt Philip Behm
The story of revolution
the glory of Che
The fury of wander
a doctor’s foray

Silver spoon of his birth
the high noon of choice
A tune peasants cling to
that force in his voice

Daring insurrection
then falling from grace
Each stalling acceptance
a rebel’s embrace

His legend in khaki
a friend to the weak
Unbending in spirit
— both joyous and bleak

(Dreamsleep: December, 2024)
 Dec 2024 Pax
guy scutellaro
casts huge leaf shadows on dirt
and the mockingbird's mocking me.

"mockingbird,"
I put my hands in my pocket
and pretend a smile,
"some things you can't out run,
church bells and a wedding dress,
funeral processions and baptisms,
the cop car radio,

she was so beautiful in her wedding dress,"

I'm pointing my finger up at the mockingbird,
"so I'm a few steps ahead of you in heartache,

it was a toss of the dice,"I tell the bird,

"I threw a handful of rice."

"so don't look sad at me, bird.
everyone gets hurt."

and on her branch in the sycamore tree
the mockingbird's crying to me...

"I'm a few years ahead you...
Sweet One, lonely bird.

I've walked through fire,
stared into the wall of shadow and sorrow
into the cold silence of tomorrow.

I hear what you're telling me, Dear One,
loves been a little ******* you, too,

and there in illusion lies the danger
so please be kind, my friend,

the sorrows that never seem to fade away
become the grey, dark sea,
and sunlight through the Sycamore tree.
 Dec 2024 Pax
Tom D
The music is in there somewhere
Trying to tell your soul
it’s solely there to restore to you
what the sadness came and stole
Listen to the pleasant tune
It can’t be there by chance
The more you hear
The more you cheer
and you may even want to dance
 Dec 2024 Pax
Lizzie Bevis
Tinkering hands
Lead to restless minds,
Always seeking
What they might find,
In systems running
Perfectly well,
Please, act with caution,
Results may repel.

Leave alone what
Smoothly flows;
If working gears
Continue to go,
For in the quest
To meddle away,
We sometimes cause
More disarray.

Wisdom lies
In knowing when
To step aside,
To leave again.
For changes made
Without true need
Can plant dysfunctions
Stubborn seed.

If it works,
Then let it be,
Sometimes that's
The wisest plea!
Not all that’s old
Needs to be renewed;
Leave it alone
To see itself through.

©️Lizzie Bevis
A cautionary poem.
In England we have this saying ‘If it ain't broken, don't fix it’ implying that it is silly to try and fix the unmendable, to put it simply…it is a waste of time.
 Dec 2024 Pax
Nemusa
untitled
 Dec 2024 Pax
Nemusa
She puked the night onto the trembling pavement,

a bitter river, spilling the weight of stars.
 Dec 2024 Pax
Liana
Stand there
On the grass covered with a coat of snow
Smell the cold
Feel the peace
Touch the white that fell on the chair in the backyard

It's uncomfortable
I'm wet and shivering
But loving every second

Memories of snow days
When I was little
Flood back to me like a tsunami
It hits me
Except I like it

Suddenly
I'm making snow angles
Building snow men
Watching soft cold comfort fall from the sky
Hearing the fact that every single snow flake is different
And being absolutely mesmerized

I remember sticking my tongue out
Trying to catch one
Trying to taste the wonder of those flakes

Now, many years later
I stick my tinge out again
Waiting for a snowflake to fall----
But it doesn't come
It doesn't land where I want it to
I'm older now
Things have changed
I miss the way they once were
When things still weren't great
But at least
I got to taste the snow flake
(this note was written by Orange. Not the color or the fruit but a piece pasta with an interesting name.)
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